7^^- 


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LI  15  U  A  It  Y 

OF  THE 

lumrsitg  of  Califoitttia. 


^/Y:^ 


187^. 


T 


ELEMENTS 


OF   THE 


\= 


PHILOSOPUf"^!^ 


OF  THE 


HUMAN  MIND. 


BY  DUGALD  STEWART,  i 

PROFESSOR  OF  MORAL   PHILOSOPHY  IN  THE  UNIVERSTTY,   AND  EEILOW  OS 
THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  OF  EDINBURGH  J 
HONORARY  MEMBER  OF  THE  IMPERIAL  ACADEMY   OF  SCIENCES 
AT  ST.  PETERSBURGH  J 
AND  MEMBER  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHICAL  SO- 
CIETY HELD  AT  PHILADELPHIA. 


■^$;44 


THIRD  AMERICAN  EDITION,  CORRECTED. 


BRArrLEMOROUCH^  FT. 
PUBLISHED    BY    WILLIAM    FESSENDEN. 

1813. 


Iftii 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


IN  various  parts  of  the  following  Work,  referen- 
ces are  made  to  fubfequent  fpeculations,  which  are 
not  contained  in  it.  Thefe  fpeculations  it  is  my  in- 
tention to  refume  at  fome  future  period  :  but  when 
I  confider  the  extent  of  my  fubjed,  and  the  many 
accidents  which  may  divert  me  from  the  profecution 
of  it,  I  cannot  venture  fo  far  as  to  announce,  in  the 
title-page  of  this  volume,  any  promife  of  a  future 
publication. 

Some  additional  chapters  are  ftill  wanting,  to  com- 
plete the  Analyiis  of  the  Intellectual  Powers.  After 
finilhing  this,  the  courfe  of  my  inquiries  would  lead 
me  to  treat,  in  the  fecond  place,  of  Man  confidered 
as  an  Adive  and  Moral  being ;  and,  thirdly,  of  Man 
confidered  as  the  member  of  a  Political  Society. 

College  of  Edinburgh^ 
March  13,  1792. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet,  Arciiive 
in  2bo7'with  fundiHgtrom    ' 
IVIicrdsoft  Coroorktioh 


http://www.archive.org/details/elementsofphilosOOstewricli 


CONTENTS, 


INTRODUCTION. 

PART  1. 

Page. 
OF  the  Nature  and  Object  of  the  Philosophy  of 

the  Human  Mind, 9 

PART  II. 
Sect,  I.— Of  the  Utility  of  the  Philosophy  of  the 

Human  Mind,  ...         -      23 

II. — Continuation  of  the  same  Subject,         -     46 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  Powers  of  External  Perception, 
Sect.  I.— Of  the  Theories  which  have  been  formed 
by  Philosophers,  to  explain  the  Manner 
in  which  the  Mind  perceives  external 

Objects, 62 

II. — Of  certam  natural  Prejudices,  which  seem 
to  have  given  rise  to  the  common  The- 
ories of  Perception,  -         -  -        68 
III. — Of  Dr.  Reid's  Speculations  on  the  Sub- 
ject of  Perception,  83 
IV. — Of  the  Origin  of  our  Knowledge,  88 

CHAP.  II. 

Of  Attention^  «  -  96 

CHAP.  III. 

Of  Conception^  -         -         121 

CHAP.  IV. 

Of  Abstraction, 
Sect.  I.— General  Observations  on  this  Faculty  of 

the  Mind,  .  -  -        137 


vi  CONTENTS. 

II. — Of  the  Objects  of  our  Thoughts,  when 

we  employ  general  Terms,  -  144 

III.— -Remarks  on  tht;  Opinions  of  some  mod- 
^     ern  Philosophers  on  the  Subject  of  the 
foregoing  Section,         -  -  163 

IV. — Continuation  of  the  same  Subject. — In- 
ferences with  respect  to  the  Use  of 
Language  as  an  instrument  of  Thought 
and  the  Errors  in  Reasoning  to  which 
it  occasionally  gives  rise,  -  17ft 

V. — Of  the  Purposes  to  which  the  powers  of 
Abstraction  and  Generalization  are 
subservient,  -  -  -      182, 

VI. — Of  the  Errors  to  which  we  are  liable  in 
Speculation,  and   in  the    Conduct   of 
Affairs,  in  consequence  of  a  rash  Ap- 
plication of  general  Principles,         -      191 
VII. — Continuation  ot  the  same  Subject. — Dif™ 
ferences  in  the  intellectual  Characters 
of  individuals,  arising  from  their  differ- 
ent Habits  of  Abstraction  and  Gener- 
alisation,        -  .         -         -  199 
VIII. — Continuation  of  the  same  Subject. — Use 
and   Abuse  of  general    Principles  in 
Politics,         -         -             .              _       20T 

CHAP.  V. 

Of  the  Association  of  Ideasy  -         245 

PART  I. 

Of  the  Influence  oj  Association  in  regulating  the  Succes- 
sion of  our  Thoughts, 

Sect.  I. — General  Observations  on  this  Part  of  our 
Constitution,  and  on  the  Language  of 
Philosophers  with  respect  to  it,         -      jb. 


CONTENTS.  vii 

II. — Of  the  Principles  of  Associaiion  ameng 

oui   Ideas,  -  -  -         255 

HI. — Of  the  Power  which  the   Mind  has  over 

the  Train  of  its  Thoughts,  -  264 

IV. — Illustrations  of  the  Doctrine  stated  in  the 

preceding  Section,         -  -  ^65 

1.  Of  Wit,  -  -  ib. 

2.  Of  Rhyme,  -  -  270 

3.  Of  Poetical  Fancy,         -         -      275 

4.  Of  Invention  in  the  arts  and  Sci- 
ences,        -         -         -         -  279 

V. — Application  of  the  Principles  stated  in  the 
foregoing  Sections  of  this  Chapter,  to 
explain  the  Phenomena  of  Dreaming,    288 
PART  II. 
Cf  the  Influence  of  Association  on  the  Intellectual  and  on 

the  Active  Powers. 
Sect.  I. — Of  the  Influence  of  casual  Associations  on 

our  speculative  conclusions,         -  306 

Il.—Of  the  Influence  of  the  association  of  Ideas 

on  our  Judgments  in  Matters  of  Taste,  324 
III. — Of  the  Influence  of  Association  on  our 
^  active   Principles   and   on   our  moral 

Judgments,         -         .         -         .         339 
IV. — General  remarks  on  the  Subjects  treated 

in  the  foregoing  sections  of  this  chapter  349 

CHAP.  VI. 

Of  Memory. 

Sect.  I. — General  Observations  on  Memory,  5s:i 

II« — Of  the  varieties  of  Memory   in  different 

individuals,  -  .  .       ^^$ 

III. — Of  the  improvement  of  Memory. — Anal- 
ysis of  the  principles  on  which  the 
Cuhure  of  Memory  depends,         -        376 


vhi.  CONTENTS. 

IV. — Continuation  of  the  same  subject. — Of 
the  aid  which  the  Memory  derives 
from  Philosophical  Arrangement,  382 

v.— Continuation  of  the  same  subject. — Ef- 
fects produced  on  the  Memory  by 
committing  to  writing  our  acquired 
Knowledge,  -  -  -         391 

VI. — Continuation   of  the  same   subject. — Of 

Artificial  memory,  -  -  -  3J8 
VII.— Continuation  of  the  same  subject. — Im- 
portance of  making  a  proper  Selection 
among  the  Objects  of  our  Knowledge, 
in  order  to  derive  advantage  from  the 
acquisitions  of  Memory,  -  404 

VIII.— Of  the  Connexion  between  memory  and 

Philosophical  Genius,  -         -         412 

CHAP.  VII. 

Of  Imagination* 

Sect.  I. — Analysis  of  Imagination,         -  -      420 

II — Of  Imagination  considered  in  its  relation 

to  some  of  the  Fine  Arts,         -         -     428 
III. — Continuation  of  the  same  subject. — Re- 
lation of  Imagination  and  of  Taste  to 
Genius,  -  -  -  442 

IV. — Of  the  influence  of  Imagination  on  Hu- 
man Character  and  Happiness,  -  444 
V — Contmuation  of  the  same  Subject. — In- 
conveniences resultmg  from  an  ill-reg- 
ulated Imagination,  -  -  451 
VI. — Continuation  of  the  same  Subject. — Im- 
portant Uses  to  which  the  power  of 
Imagination  is  subservient,          -  462 

Notes  and  Illustrations,        -        -    ^         46r 


ELEMENTS 


OF  THE 


PHILOSOPHY 


OF  THE 


HUMAN  MIND. 


"»••  e  se®  i<£S^!®  ®  ®  ««e  • 


INTRODUCTION. 


PARTL 


Of  the  Nature  andObjed  of  the  Philofophy  of  the  Human 
Mind, 

THE  prejudice  which  is  commonly  entertained  a- 
gainft  metaphyfical  fpeculations,  ieems  to  arile  chief-, 
ly  from  two  caufes :  Firll,  from  an  apprehenfion  that 
thefubjects  about  vvhich  they  are  emphu  ed,  are  pla- 
ced beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  faculties ;  and, 
fecondly,  from  a  belief  that  theie  fubjects  have  no 
relation  to  the  bufinefs  of  life. 

The  frivolous  and  abfurd  difcuflions  which  abound 
in  the  writings  of  moft  Metaphyfical  authors,  afford 
but  too  many  arguments  in  juitification  of  thefe  o*. 
pinions;  and  if  fuch  difcuflions  were  to  be  admit- 
ted as  a  fair  fpecimen  of  wliat  the  human  mind  is 
able  to  accomplilh  in  this  department  of  fcience,  the 
contempt,  into  which  it  has  fallen  of  late,  might  with 
B 


J(5  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILSOPHY 

juftice  be  regarded,  as  no  inconfiderable  evidence  of 
the  progrcfs  which  true  philofophy  has  made  in  the 
prelent  age.  Among  the  various  fubjects  of  inqui- 
ry, however,  which,  in  confcquence  of  the  vague  ufe 
of  language,  are  comprehended  under  the  general  ti- 
tle of  Metaphyfics,  there  are  fome,  which  are  eflen- 
tially  dillinguiflied  from  the  reft,  both  by  the  degree 
of  evidence  which  accompanies  their  principles,  and 
by  the  relation  which  they  bear  to.theufefulfciences 
and  arts :  and  it  has  unfortunately  happened,  that 
thefe  have  (liared  in  that  general  difcredit,  into  which 
the  other  branches  of  metaphyfics  have  juftly  fallen. 
To  this  circumilance  is  probably  to  be  afcribed,  the 
little  progrcfs  which  has  hitherto  been  made  in  the 
Philofophy  oj  the  Human  Mind ;  a  fcience,  fo  intereft- 
ing  in  its  nature,  and  fo  important  in  its  applications, 
that  it  could  fcarcely  have  failed,  in  thefe  inquifitive 
and  enlightened  times,  to  have  excited  a  very  gener- 
al attention,  if  it  had  not  accidentally  been  claffed,  in 
the  public  opinion,  with  the  vain  and  unprofitable 
dilquifitions  of  the  fchool-men. 

In  order  to  obviate  thefe  mifapprehenfions  with 
relped  to  the  fubject  of  the  following  work,  I  have 
thought  it  proper,  in  this  preliminary  chapter,  firft, 
to  explain  the  Nature  of  the  truths  which  I  propofe 
to  inveftigate  ;  and,  fecondly,  to  point  out  fome  of 
the  more  important  Applications  of  which  they  are 
.  fufceptible.  In  ftating  thefe  prelimiBary  obferva- 
tions,  I  may  perhaps  appear  to  fome  to  be  minute 
and  tedious  ;  but  this  fault,  I  am  confident,  will  be 
readily  pardoned  by  thofe,  who  have  fi:udied  with 
care  the  principles  of  that  fcience  of  which  I  am  to 
treat ;  and  who  are  anxious  to  remove  the  prejudi- 
ces which  have,  in  a  great  meafure,  excluded  it  from 
the  modern  lyftems  of  education.  In  the  progrefs 
of  my  work,  I  flatter  myfelf  that  I  Ihall  not  often 
have  occafion  to  folicit  the  indulgence  of  my  read- 
ers, for  an  unueceiiarv  diflufenefs. 


Ol'  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  11 

The  notions  v\ve  annex  to  the  words,  matter,  and 
•ja^ind,  as  is  well  remarked  by  Dr.  Reid,*  are  merely- 
relative.  If  I  am  alked  v/hat  I  mean  by  matter  ?  [ 
can  only  explain  myfeif  by  faying,  it  is  that  which  is 
extended,  figured,  coloured,  moveable,  hard  or  foft, 
rough  or  fmooth,  hot  or  cold  ; — that  is,  I  can  de- 
fine it  in  no  other  way,  than  by  enumerating  its  fenfi- 
ble  qualities.  It  is  not  matter,  or  body,  which  I  per- 
ceive by  my  fenfes  ;  but  only  extenfion,  figure,  col- 
our, and  certain  other  qualities,  which  the  conftitu- 
tion  of  my  nature  leads  me  to  refer  to  fonething, 
which  is  extended,  figured,  and  coloured.  The  cafe 
is  precifely  fimilar  with  refpeci  to  Mind.  We  are 
not  immediately  conlcious  of  its  exillence,  but  we 
are  confcious  of  fenfation,  thought,  and  volition  ; 
operations,  which  imply  the  exiftence  of  fomething 
which  feels,  thinks,  and  wills.  Every  man  too  is 
impreffed  with  an  irrefiftible  convidion,  that  all 
thefe  fenfations,  thoughts,  and  volitions,  belong  to 
one  and  the  fame  being  ;  to  that  being,  which  he 
calls  himfelf ;  a  being,  which  he  is  led,  by  the  confti- 
tution  of  his  nature,  to  confider  as  fomething  dif- 
tincl  from  his  body,  and  as  not  liable  to  be  impair- 
ed by  the  lofs  or  mutilation  of  any  of  his  organs. 

From  thefe  confiderations,  it  appears,  that  we  have 
the  fame  evidence  for  the  exiftence  of  mind,  that  we 
have  for  the  exiftence  of  body  ;  nay,  if  there  be  any 
difference  between  the  two  cafes,  that  we  have  ftron- 
ger  evidence  for  it ;  inafmuch  as  the  one  is  fuggtft- 
ed  to  us  by  the  fubjedls  of  our  own  conlcioufnefs, 
and  the  other  merely  by  the  objedls  of  our  own  per- 
ceptions :  and  in  this  light,  undoubtedly,  the  face 
would  appear  to  every  perfon,  w^ere  it  not,  that, 
from  our  earlieft  years,  the  attention  is  engrofled 
with  the  qualities  and  laws  of  matter,  an  acquain- 
tance with  which  is  abfolutely  neceflary  for  the 
prefervation  of  our  animal  exiftence.  Hence  it  is, 
*  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man,  p.  8,  9, 


13  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

that  tliefc  phenomena  occupy  our  thoughts  more 
than  thofe  of  mind  :  that  we  are  perpetually  tempt- 
ed to  explain  the  latter  by  the  analogy  of  the  for- 
iner^  and  even  to  endeavor  to  refer  them  to  the  fame 
general  laws  ;  and  that  we  acquire  habits  of  inatten- 
tion to  the  fubjecls  of  our  confcioufnefs,  top  ftrong 
to  be  afterwards  furmounted,  without  the  moil  per- 
fevering  induilry. 

If  the  foregoing  obfervations  be  well  founded,  they 
cftablifli  the  difHnclion  between  mind  and  matter, 
without  any  longprocefs  of  metaphyfical  reafoning*: 
for  if  our  notions  of  both  are  merely  relative  ;  if 
we  know  the  one,  only  by  fuch  fenfible  qualities  as 
extenfion,  figure,  and  folidity  ;  and  the  other,  by 
fuch  operations  as  fenfation,  thought,  and  voHtion  ; 
we  are  certainly  entitled  to  fay,  that  matter  and 
mind,  conlidered  as  objects  of  human  ftudy,  are  ef- 
fentially  different ;  the  fcience  of  the  former  refling 
ultimately  on  the  phenomena  exhibited  to  our  fen- 
fes ;  that  of  the  latter,  on  the  phenomena  of  which 
we  are  confcious.  Inftead,  therefore,  of  objeding 
to  the  fcheme  of  materialifm,  that  its  conclufions  are 
falfe,  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  fay,  that  its  aim 
is  unphilofophical.  It  proceeds  on  a  mifapprehen- 
fion  of  the  proper  object  of  fcience;  the  difficulty 
which  it  profeiTes  to  remove  being  manifeflly  placed 
beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties.  Surely,  when 
we  attempt  to  explain  the  nature  of  thai  principle 
which  feels  and  thinks  and  wills,  by  faying,  that  it 
is  a  material  iubftance,  or  that  it  is  the  refult  of  ma- 
terial organization,  we  impofe  or,  durfelves  by  words 
— forgetting,  that  matter  as  well  as  mind  is  known 
to  us  by  its  quaUties  and  attributes  alone,  and  that 
we  are  totally  ignorant  of  the  eflence  of  either.f 

*  See  Note  [A]  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

t  Some  Metaj)hysicians,  who  appear  to  admit  the  truth  of  the 
foregoing  reasoning,  have  farther  urged,  that  for  any  thing  we  can 


OF    THE    HUMAN    MIND.  13 

As  all  our  knowledge  of  the  material  world  is  de- 
rived from  the  information  of  our  fenfes,  natural 
philofophers  have,  in  modern  times,  vv'ifely  abandon- 
ed to  metaphyficians,  all  (peculations  concerning  the 
nature  of  that  fubftance  of  which  it  is  composed  ; 
concerning  the  pollibility  or  impofTibility  of  its  being 
created  ;  concerning  the  efficient  caufes  of  the  chan- 
ges  which  take  place  in  it ;  and  even  concerning  the 
reality  of  its  exiftence,  independent  of  that  of  per- 
cipient beings :  and  have  confined  themfelves  to  the 
humbler  province  of  obferving  the  phenomena  it  ex- 
hibits, and  of  afcertaining  their  general  laws.  By 
purfuing  this  plan  fteadily,  they  have,  in  the  courfe 
of  the  two  laft  centuries,  formed  a  body  of  fcience, 
which  not  only  does  honor  to  the  human  underftand- 
ing,  but  has  had  a  moft  important  influence  on  the 
practical  arts  of  life.  This  experimental  philofophy, 
no  one  now  is  in  danger  of  confounding  with  the 
metaphylical  fpeculations  already  mentioned.  Of 
the  importance  of  thefe,  as  a  feparate  branch  of  ftudy, 
it  is  poflible  that  fome  may  think  more  favorably 
than  others  ;  but  they  are  obvioufly  different  in 
their  nature,  from  the  invefligations  of  phyfics  ;  and 
it  is  of  the  utmoft  confequence  to  the  evidence  of 
this  laft  fcience,  that  its  principles  Ihould  not  be  blen- 
ded with  thofe  of  the  former. 

A  fimilar  diftinclion  takes  place  among  the  ques- 
tions which  may  be  flated  relative  to  the  human 
miad.^— Waether  it  be  extended  or  unextended ; 
whether  or  not  it  has  any  relation  to  place  ;  and  (if 
it  hasj  whether  it  refides  in  the  brain,  or  be  fpread 

prove  to  the  contrary,  it  is  }jossible,  that  the  unknown  substance 
which  has  the  qualities  of  extciision,  figure,  and  colour,  may  be  the 
sanoe  with  the  unknown  s-ubstiince  which  h.ist  he  attributes  o'  feel- 
ing thinking  and  willing.  But  besides  that  this  is  only  an  hypo- 
thesis, which  amounts  to  nothing  more  than  a  mere  possibility, 
even  if  it  were  true,  it  would  no  more  be  proper  to  say  of  mind, 
that  it  is  material,  than  to  tay  ol  body,  that  it  is  spirituul. 


14  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

over  the  body,  by  difiufion  ;  are  queftions  perfectly 
analogous  to  thofe  which  metaphyficians  have  ftarted 
on  the  iubject  of  matter.  It  is  iinnecefTary  to  inquire 
at  prefent  whether  or  not  they  admit  of  anfwer.  It 
is  fulEcient  for  my  purpofe  to  remark,  that  they  are 
as  widely  and  obvioufly  different  from  the  vievv- 
which  I  propofe  to  take,  of  the  human  mind  in  the 
following  work,  as  the  reveries  of  Berkeley  concern- 
ing the  non-exiftence  of  the  material  world,  are  from 
the  conclufions  of  Newton  and  his  followers. — It  is 
farther  evident, that  the  metaphyfical opinions, which 
we  may  happen  to  have  formed  concerning  the  na- 
ture either  of  body  or  of  mind,  and  the  efficient 
caufes  by  which  their  phenomena  are  produced,  have 
no  neceffary  connexion  with  our  enquiries  concern- 
ing the  laws,  according  to  which  thefe  phenomena 
take  place. — Whether  (for  example)  the  caufe  of 
gravitation  be  material  or  immaterial,  is  a  point  about 
which  two  Newtonians  may  differ,  while  they  agree 
perfectly  in  their  phyfical  opinions.  It  is  fufficient 
if  both  admit  the  general  fad,  that  bodies  tend  to 
approach  each  other,  with  a  force  varying  with  their 
mutual  diftance,  according  to  a  certain  law.  In  like 
manner  in  the  ftudy  of  the  human  mind,  the  con- 
clufion  to  which  we  are  led  by  a  careful  examination 
of  the  phenomena  it  exhibits,  have  no  neceffary  con- 
nexion with  our  opinions  concerning  its  nature  and 
cffence. — That  when  two  fubje6ts  of  thought,  for  in- 
ftance,  have  been  repeatedly  prefented  to  the  mind 
in  conjunction,  the  one  has  a  tendency  to  fugged  the 
other,  is  a  fact  of  which  I  can  no  more  doubt,  than 
of  any  thing  for  which  I  have  the  evidence  of  my 
fenfes  ;  and  it  is  plainly  a  fad  totally  unconneded 
with  any  hypothefis  concerning  the  nature  of  the 
foul,  and  which  will  be  as  readity  admitted  by  the 
materialift  as  by  the  Berkeleian. 

Notwithftanding,  however,  the  reality  and   im- 
portance of  this  diftinction,  it  has  not  hitherto  beeH 


OF    THE    HUMAN    MINDr  15 

fufficiently  attended  to,  by  the  philofophers  who 
have  treated  of  the  human  mind.  Dr.  Reid  is  per- 
haps the  only  one  who  has  perceived  it  clearly,  or  at 
leaft  who  has  kept  it  lleadiiy  in  view,  in  ail  his  inqui- 
ries. In  the  writings,  indeed,  of  feveral  other  mod- 
ern metaphyficians,  we  meet  with  a  variety  of  irfi- 
portant  and  well  afcertained  facls  ;  but  in  general, 
thefe  facls  are  blended  with  fpeculations  upon  ful> 
jeds  which  are  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human 
faculties. — It  is  this  mixture  of  fact,  and  of  hypothe- 
cs, which  has  brought  the  philofophy  of  mind  into 
fome  degree  of  difcredit  ;  nor  will  ever  its  real  value 
be  generally  acknowledged,  till  the  difiinclion  I  have 
endeavoured  to  illuftrate,  be  underftood,  and  attend- 
ed to,  by  thofe  who  fpeculate  on  the  fubjed.  By 
confining  their  attention  to  the  fenfible  qualities  of 
body,  and  to  the  fenfible  phenomena  it  exhibits,  we 
know  what  discoveries  natural  philofophers  have 
.made  :  and  if  the  labours  of  Metaphyficians  fhall  ever 
be  rewarded  with  fimilar  fuccefs,  it  can  only  be,  by 
attentive  and  patient  reflection  on  the  fubjects  of 
their  own  confcioufnefs. 

I  cannot  help  taking  this  opportunity  of  remark- 
ing on  the  other  hand,  that  if  phyfical  inquirers  Ihould 
think  of  again  employing  themfelves  in  fpecuhtions 
about  the  nature  of  matter,  inftead  of  attempting  to 
afcertain  its  fenfible  properties  and  laws,  (and  of  late 
there  feems  to  be  fuch  a  tendency  among  fome  of  the 
followers  of  Bofcovich,)  they  will  foon  involve  them- 
felves in  an  inextricable  labyrinth,  and  the  firft  prin- 
ciples of  phyfics  will  be  rendered  as  myfterious  and 
chimerical,  as  the  pncumatology  of  the  ichool-men. 

The  little  progrefs  which  has  hitherto  been  made 
in  the  philofophy  of  mind,  will  not  appear  furprifing 
to  thofe  who  have  attended  to  the  hillory  of  natui  al 
knowledge.  It  is  only  fince  the  time  of  Lord  Bicon, 
that  the  lludy  of  it  has  been  profecuted  with  any 
degree  of  fuccels,  or  that  the  proper  method  of  con- 


16  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

dueling  it  has  been  generally  underflood.  There  is 
even  fome  reafon  for  doubting,  from  the  crude  fpec- 
illations  on  medical  and  chemical  fubjecls  which  are 
daily  offered  to  the  public,  whether  it  be  yet  under- 
flood fo  completely  as  is  commonly  imagined  ;  and 
whether  a  fuller  illuflration  ot  the  rules  of  philofo- 
phifing,  than  Bacon  or  his  followers  have  given,  might 
not:  be  ufeful,  even  to  phyfical  inquirers. 

When  we  reflect,  in  this  manner,  on  the  fliortnefs 
of  the  period  during  which  natural  philofophy  has 
been  fuccefsfully  cultivated  ;  and  at  the  fame  time, 
confider  how  open  to  our  examination  the  laws  of 
matter  are,  in  comparifon  of  thofe  which  regulate 
the  phenomena  of  thought,  we  fhall  neither  be  dis- 
pofed  to  wonder,  that  the  philofophy  of  mind  fliould 
ilill  remain  in  its  infancy,  nor  be  difcouraged  in  our 
hopes  concerning  its  future  progrefs.  The  excellent 
models  of  this  fpecies  of  invefligation,  which  the 
writings  of  Dr.  Reid  exhibit,  give  us  ground  to  ex- 
pect that  the  time  is  not  far  diflant  when  it  fhall  as- 
fume  that  rank  which  it  is  entitled  to  hold  among 
the  fciences. 

It  would  probably  contribute  much  to  accelerate 
the  progrefs  of  the  philofophy  of  mind,  if  a  diflinCt 
explanation  were  given  of  its  nature  and  object ;  and 
if  fome  general  rules  were  la'd  down,  with  refpecl  to 
the  proper  method  of  conducing  the  fludy  of  it. 
To  this  fubject,  however,  which  is  of  fullicient  extent 
to  furnifh  matter  for  a  feparate  work,  I  cannot  at- 
tempt  to  do  jullice  at  prefent  ;  and  fhall  therefore 
confine  myfelt  to  the  illuflration  of  a  few  fundamen- 
tal  principles,  which  it  will  be  of  effential  importance 
for  us  to  keep  i-n  view  in  the  following  inquirers. . 

Upon  a  flight  attention  to  the  operations  of  our 
own  minds,  they  appear  to  be  fo  compHcated,  and 
fo  infinitely  diverfified,  that  it  feems  to  be  impofTible 
to  reduce  them  to  any  general  laws.  In  confequence, 
however,  of  a  more  ac'curate  examination,  the  prof- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  17 

J?e<5t  dears  up  5  and  the  phenomena,  which  appearedj 
at  firft,  to  be  too  various  tor  our  comprehenlion,are 
found  to  be  the  refuit  of  a  comparatively  fmali  num- 
ber of  fimpie  and  uncompounded  faculties,  or  of 
fimple  and  uncompounded  principles  of  action. 
Thefe  faculties  and  principles  are  the  general  laws  of 
our  conlHtutioUj  and  hold  the  fame  place  in  the 
philofophy  of  mind,  that  the  general  laws  we  invef- 
tigate  in  phyfics,  hold  in  that  branch  of  fcience.  In 
both  cafes,  the  laws  which  nature  has  eftabliflied, 
are  to  be  inveftigated  only  by  an  examination  of 
fads ;  and  in  both  cafes,  a  knowledge  of  thefe  laws 
leads  to  an  explanation  of  an  infinite  number  of 
phenomena. 

In  the  inveftigation  of  phyfical  laws,  it  is  well 
known,  that  our  inquiries  muft  always  terminate  in 
fome  general  fad:,  of  which  no  account  can  be  given, 
but  that  fuch  is  the  conftitution  of  nature.  After 
we  have  eftabhftied,  for  example,  from  the  aftro- 
novnical  phenomena,  the  univerfality  of  the  law  of 
gravitation,  it  may  ftili  be  afkvd,  whether  this  law 
implies  the  conftant  agency  of  mind  ;  and  (upon  the 
fuppolltion  that  it  does)  whether  it  be  probable  that 
the  Deity  always  operates  immediately,  or  by  means 
of  fubordinate  inftrun  ents  ?  But  thefe  queftions, 
however  curious,  do  not  fall  under  the  province  of 
the  natural  philoiopher.  It  is  iufficient  for  his  pur- 
pofe,  if  the  univerfality  of  the  facl  be  admitted. 

The  cafe  is  exactly  the  fame  in  the  philofophy 
of  mind.  When  we  have  once  afcertaincd  a  gen- 
eral fact ;  fuch  as,  the  various  laws  which  regulate 
the  aflbciation  of  ideas,  or  the  dependence  of  mem- 
ory on  that  effort  of  the  mind  which  we  call  i^tten- 
tion  ;  it  is  all  we  ought  to  aim  at,  in  this  branch  of 
fcience.  If  we  proceed  no  farther  than  fads  for 
which  we  have  the  evidence  of  our  own  coi:lci(>uf- 
nefs,  our  con'-lufioi.s  v\ill  be  no  lefs  certain,  1  n 
thofe  in  phyfics  :  but  if  our  curiuiiiy  leads  Ub  to  at- 
C 


18  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tempt  an  explanation  of  the  afTociation  of  ideas,  by 
certain  fuppofed  vibrations,  or  other  changes,  in  the 
ftate  of  the  brain  ;  or  to  explain  memory,  by  means 
of  fuppofed  impreflions  and  traces  in  the  fenforium  ; 
we  evidently  blend  a  coliedion  of  important  and 
well  afcertained  truths,  with  principles  which  reft 
wholly  on  conjecture.* 

*  There  is  indeed  one  view  of  the  connexion  between  Mind  and 
Matter,  which  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  the  just  rules  of  philosophy. 
"The  object  of  this  is,  to  ascertain  the  laws  which  regulate  their 
union,  without  attempting  to  explain  in  wlmt  manner  they  are 
united. 

Lord  Bacon  was,  T  believe,  the  first  who  gave  a  distinct  idea  of 
this  sort  of  speculation;  and  I  do  not  know  that  much  progress  has 
yet  been  made  in  it.  In  his  books  de  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  » 
variety  of  subjects  are  enumerated,  in  order  to  illustrate  its  nature; 
and,  undoubtedly,  most  of  these  are  in  a  high  degree  curious  and 
important.  The  following  list  comprehends  the  chief  of  those  he 
has  mentioned ;  with  the  addition  of  several  others,  recommended 
to  the  consideration  of  Philosophers  and  of  Medical  Inquirers,  by  the 
late  Dr.  Gregory.  See  his  Lectures  on  the  Duties  and  Qualifica- 
tions of  a  Physician.     < 

1.  The  doctrine  of  the  preservation  and  improvement  of  the  dif- 
ferent senses. 

2.  The  history  of  the  power  and  influence  of  imagination. 

3.  The  history  of  the  several  species  of  enthusiasm. 

4  The  history  oi  the  various  circumstances  in  parents,  that  have- 
an  influence  on  conception,  and  the  constitution  and  characters  of 
their  children. 

5.  The  history  of  dreams. 

6.  The  history  of  the  laws  of  custom  and  habit. 

7.  The  history  of  the  effects  of  music,  and  of  such  other  thing? 
as  operate  on  the  mind  and  body,  in  consequence  of  impressions 
made  on  the  senses. 

8.  The  history  of  natural  signs  and  language,  comprehending 
the  doctrifieof  physiognomy  and  of  outward  gesture. 

9.  The  history  of  the  power  and  laws  of  the  principle  of  imita- 
tion. 

To  this  list  various  other  subjects  might  be  added ;  particularly, 
the  hifatory  of  the  laws  of  memory^  in  so  far  as  they  appear  to  be 
connected  with  the  state  of  the  body  ;  and  the  history  of  the  di!^ 
ferent  species  of  madness. 

This  view  of  the  connection  between  Mind  and  Matter  does  not 
fall  properly  under  the  plan  of  the  following  work ;  in  which  my 


of  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  19 

The  obfervations  which  have  been  now  ftated, 
with  refpecl  to  the  proper  Umits  of  philofophical  cu- 
rioiity,  have  too  frequently  efcaped  the  attention  of 
fpeculative  men,  in  all  the  different  departments  of 
fcience.  In  none  of  thefe,  however,  has  this  inat- 
tention produced  fuch  a  variety  of  errors  and  abfur- 
dities,  as  in  the  fcience  of  mind  ;  a  fubjed;  to  which, 
till  of  late,  it  does  not  feem  to  have  been  fufpeded, 
that  the  general  rules  of  philofophifing  are  applicable. 
The  llrange  mixture  of  fad:  and  hypotheiis,  which 
the  greater  parr  of  mctaphyfical  inquiries  exhibit, 
had  led  almolt  univerfally  to  a  belief,  that  it  is  only  a 
very  faint  and  doubtful  light,  which  human  reafon 
can  ever  exped  to  throw  on  this  dark,  but  intereft- 
mg,  field  of  fpeculation. 

Befide  this  inattention  to  the  proper  limits  of  phi- 
lofophical inquiry,  other  fources  of  error,  from 
which  the  fcience  of  phyfics  is  entirely  exempted, 
have  contributed  to  retard  the  progrefs  of  the  phi- 
lofophy  of  mind.  Of  thefe,  the  moft  important 
proceed  from  that  difpofition  which  is  fo  natural  to 
every  perfon  at  the  commencement  of  his  philo- 
fophical purfuits,  to  explain  intelledual  and  moral 
phenomena  by  the  analogy  of  the  material  world. 

I  before  took  notice  of  thofe  habits  of  inattention 
to  the  fubjects  of  our  confcioufnefs,  which  take 
their  rife  in  that  period  of  our  lives  when  we  are  ne- 
ceffarily  employed  in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the 
properties  and  laws  of  matter.  In  confequence  of 
this  early  familiarity  with  the  phenomena  of  the 
material  world,  they  appear  to  us  lefs  myfterious 
than  thofe  of  mind  ;  and  we  are  apt  to  think  that 

leading  object  is  to  ascertain  the  principles  of  our  nattire,  in  so  far 
as  they  can  be  discovered  by  attention  to  the  subjects  of  our  own 
consciousness;  and  to  apply  these  principles  to  explain  the  phe- 
nomena arising  from  them.  Variouii  incidejital  remarks,  however, 
will  occur  in  the  course  of  our  inquiries,  tending  to  illustrate  some 
of  the  subjects  comprehended  in  tlie  foregoing  enumeration. 


20  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPf^Y 

« 

'ive  have  advanced  one  ftep  in  explaining  the  latter, 
when  we  can  point  out  fome  analop^y  between  theiH 
and  the  former.  It  is  owing  to  the  fame  circum- 
fiance,  that  we  have  fcarcely  any  appropriated  lan- 
guage with  refpe(^  to  mind,  and  that  the  words 
wliich  exprefs  its  different  operations,  are  aim- ft  41 
borrowed  from  the  objects  of  our  fenfes.  It  muft, 
however,  appear  manifeft,  upDn  a  very  little  reflec- 
tion, that  as  the  two  fubjefts  are  eifeiitially  diftincl, 
and  as  each  of  them  has  its  peculiar  laws,  the  analo- 
gies we  are  pleafed  to  fancy  between  them,  can  be 
of  no  ufe  in  illuftrating  either  ;  and*  that  it  is  no  lefs 
unphilofophical  to  attempt  an  explanation  of  percep- 
tion, or  of  the  affociation  of  ideas,  upon  mechanical 
principles  ;  than  it  would  be  to  explain  the  phenomp 
ena  of  gravitation,  by  fupi-oQng,  as  fome  of  he  an- 
cients did,  the  particles  of  matter  to  be  animated 
with  principles  of  motion  ;  or  to  explain  the  chem- 
ical phenomena  of  elective  attractions,  by  fuppofmg 
the  fubftances  among  which  they  are  obferved,  to  be 
endowed  with  thought  and  volition.— The  analogy 
of  matter,  therefore,  can  be  of  no  ufe  in  the  inqui- 
ries which  form  the  object  of  the  following  work ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  is  to  be  guarded  againft,  as 
one  of  the  principal  fources  of  the  errors  to  which 
we  are  liable. 

Among  the  difFef  ent  philofophers  who  have  Ipec- 
ulated  concerning  the  human  mind,  very  few  indeed 
can  be  mentioned,  who  have  at  all  times  been  able 
to  guard  againft  analogical  theories.  At  the  fame 
time,  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that  fince  the  publi- 
cation of  Des  Cartes'  writings,  there  has  been  a  grad- 
ual, and,  on  the  whole,  a  very  remark  ible  improve- 
ment  in  this  branch  of  fcience.  One  ftr.ldng  proof 
of  this  is,  the  contraft  between  the  metaphyfical  ipec- 
ulations  of  fome  of  the  n)oft  eminint  philofophers  in 
England  at  the  end  of  the  laft  century,  and  thofe 
which  we  find  in  the  fyftems,  however  imperfect.,  of 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MTND.  21 

the  prefent  age.  Would  any  writer  now  offer  to 
the  world,  fuch  conclufions  with  refpefl  to  the  mind, 
as  are  contained  in  the  two  following  paffages  from 
Locke  and  Newton  ?  "Habits,"  (fays  Locke,)  "feetn 
"  to  be  but  tra  ns  of  motion,  in  the  animal  fpirits, 
"  which,  once  fet  a-going,  contiiiue  in  the  (lime  fteps 
"  they  had  been  ufed  to,  which,  by  often  treading, 
^'  are  worn  into  a  fmooth  path."  And  Newton  hiin- 
felf  has  propofed  the  folio  ^ing  query,  concerning  the 
manner  in  which  the  mind  perceives  external  obj;cts. 
*'  Is  not,"  (fays  he,)  "  the  fenforium  of  aninials  the 
*'  place  where  the  fentient  fubltance  is  prefent,  and 
*'  to  which  the  fenfible  fpecies  of  things  are  brought, 
"  through  the  nerves  and  brain,  that  they  may  be 
*'  perceived  by  the  mind  prefent  in  that  place  ?*' — 
In  the  courfe  of  the  following  Effays,  I  (hall  have  oc- 
cafion  to  quote  various  other  piffages  from  later 
writers,  in  which  an  attempt  is  made  to  explain  the 
other  phenomena  of  mind  upon  finiilar  priiciples. 

It  is  however  much  to  be  regretted,  that  even 
lince  the  period  when  philofophers  began  to  adopt  a 
more  rational  plan  of  inquiry  with  refpect  to  fuch 
fubjccts,they  have  been  obliged  to  fpend  fo  much  of 
their  time  in  clearing  away  the  rubbifh  collected  by 
their  predeceffurs.  This  indeed  was  a  preliminary 
flep,  which  the  ftate  of  the  kience,  and  the  conciu- 
fions  to  which  it  had  led,  rendered  abfolutely  nectf- 
fary  ;  for,  however  important  the  pofitive  advanta- 
ges may  be,  which  are  to  be  expected  from  it^  future 
progrefs,  they  are  by  no  mear.s  fo  eifential  to  human 
improvement  and  happinefs,  as  a  fatistadory  refuta- 
tion of  that  fceptical  philofophy,  which  had  ftruck 
at  the  root  of  all  knowledge,  and  a.l  belief.  Such  a 
refutation  feems  to  have  been  the  principal  object 
which  Dr.  Reid  propofed  to  himfelf  in  his  metaphys- 
ical inquiries  ;  and  to  this  object  his  labours  have 
been  directed  with  fo  much  a  ility,  candor,  and  per- 
feverance,  that  unlefs  future  fceptics  ihouid  occupy 


ti2  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

a  ground  very  different  from  that  of  their  predecef- 
fors,  it  is  not  likely  that  the  controverfy  will  ever  be 
renewed.  The  rubbilh  being  now  removed,  and 
the  foundations  laid,  it  is  time  to  begin  the  fuper- 
ftruclure.  I'he  progrefs  which  I  have  made  in  it  is, 
I  am  fenlible,  very  inconfiderable  ;  yet  I  flatter  my- 
felf,  that  the  little  1  have  done,  will  be  fufficient  to  il- 
luitrate  the  importance  of  the  ftudy,  and  to  recom- 
mend the  fubjects  of  which  I  am  to  treat,  to  the  at- 
tention of  others. 

After  the  remarks  which  I  have  now  made,  the 
reader  will  not  be  furprifed  to  find,  ihc\t  I  have  ftudi- 
oufly  avoided  the  confideration  of  thofe  queftions 
which  have  been  agitated  in  the  prefent  age,  between 
the  patrons  of  the  fceptical  philofophy,  and  their  op- 
ponents. Thefe  controverfies  have,  in  truth,  no  pe- 
culiar  connexion  with  the  inquiries  on  w^hich  I  am 
to  enter.  It  is  indeed  only  by  an  examination  of 
the  principles  of  our  nature,  that  they  can  be  brought 
to  a  fatisfaclory  conclufion  ;  but  fuppofing  them  to 
remain  undecided,  our  fceptical  doubts  concerning 
the  certainty  of  human  knowledge,  would  no  more 
affecl  the  philofophy  of  mind,  than  they  would  affed 
any  of  the  branches  of  phyfics;  nor  would  our  doubts 
concerning  even  the  exiftence  of  mind,  affedl  this 
branch  of  fcience,  any  more  than  the  doubts  of  the 
Berkeleian,  concerning  the  exiftence  of  matter,  affed: 
his  opinions  in  natural  philofophy. 

To  what  purpofes  the  philofophy  of  the  human 
mind  according  to  the  view  which  I  propofe  to  take 
of  it,  is  fubfervient,  I  (hall  endeavor  to  explain,  at 
foaie  length,  in  the  following  fection* 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  23 

PART  SECOND. 

SECTION  I. 

Of  the  Utility  of  the  Philofophy  of  the  Human  Mind. 

IT  has  been  often  remarked,  that  there  is  a  mu- 
tual connexion  between  the  different  arts  and  fcien- 
ces,  and  that  the  improvements  which  are  made  in 
one  branch  of  human  knowledge,  frequently  throw 
light  on  others,  to  which  it  has  apparently  a  very  re- 
mote relation.  The  modern  difcoveries  in  aflrono- 
my,  and  in  pure  mathematics,  have  contributed  to 
bring  the  art  of  navigation  to  a  degree  of  perfection 
formerly  unknown.  The  rapid  progrefs  which  has 
been  lately  made  in  aftronomy,  anatomy,  and  bota- 
ny, has  been  chiefly  owing  to  the  aid  which  thefe 
fciences  have  received  from  the  art  of  the  optician. 

Although,  however,  the  different  departments  of 
fcience  and  of  art  mutually  refled  light  on  each  oth- 
er, it  is  not  always  neceffiry  either  for  the  philofopher 
or  the  artift  to  aim  at  the  acquifition  of  general 
knowledge.  Both  of  them  may  fafely  take  many 
principles  for  granted,  without  being  able  to  demon- 
ftrate  their  truth.  A  feaman,  though  ignorant  of 
mathematics,  may  apply,  with  corredinefs  and  dex- 
terity, the  rules  for  finding  the  longitude  :  An  allro- 
nomer,  or  a  botanift,  though  ignorant  of  optics,  may 
avail  himfelf  of  the  ufe  of  the  telefcope,  or  the  mi- 
crofcope.. 

Thefe  obfervations  are  daily  exemplified  in  the 
cafe  of  the  artift  ;  who  has  feldom  either  inclination 
or  leifure  to  fpeculate  concerning  the  principles  of 
his  art.  It  is  rarely,  however,  we  meet  with  a  man 
of  fcience,  who  has  confined  his  ftudles  wholly  to 
one  branch  of  knowledge  That  curiofity,  which 
he  has  been  accuftomed  to  indulge  in  the  courfe  of 


34  ELEMENTS  OE  T*HE  PHILOSOPHY' 

his  favorite  purfuit,  \vill  naturally  extend  itfelf  to 
every  remarkable  objecV.  which  falls  under  his  obfer- 
vatiim  ;  and  can  icarcely  fail  to  be  a  fource  of  perpet- 
ual diffitisfaclion  to  his  mind,  till  it  has  been  fo  far 
gratified  as  to  enable  him  to  explain  all  the  various 
phenomena,  which  his  profeilional  habits  are  every 
day  preienting  to  his  view. 

As  every  particular  Icience  is  in  this  manner  con- 
nefted  with  others,  to  which  it  naturally  directs  the; 
attention,  fo  all  the  purfuits  of  life,  whether  they 
terminate  infpeculation  or  aclion,  are  connected  with 
that  general  fcience,  which  has  the  human  mind  for 
its  objecl.  The  powers  of  the  underftanding  are 
infcruments  which  all  men  employ  ;  and  his  curiofi- 
ty  muft  be  fmall  indeed,  who  paffes  through  life  in 
a  total  ignorance  of  faculties,  which  his  wants  and 
necefllties  force  him  habitually  to  exercife,  and  which 
fo  remarkably  diftinguilh  man  from  the  lower  ani- 
mals. The  active  principles  of  our  nature,  which, 
by  their  various  modifications  and  combinations^ 
give  rife  to  all  the  moral  differences  among  men,  are 
fitted,  in  a  ftill  higher  degree,  if  poffible,  to  intereft 
thofe,  who  are  either  difpofed  to  reflecV  on  their  own 
characters,  or  to  obferve,  with  attention,  the  charac- 
ters of  others.  The  phenomena  refulting  from  thefe 
faculties  and  principles  of  the  mind,  are  every  mo- 
ment foliciting  our  notice ;  and  open  to  our  exa'min- 
atlon,  a  field  of  difcovery,  as  inexhauftible  as  the 
phenomena  of  the  material  world  ;  and  exhibiting 
not  lefs  ftriking  marks  of  divine  wifdom. 

While  all  the  fciences,  and  all  the  purfuits  of  life, 
have  this  common  tendency  to  lead  our  inquiries  to 
the  philofophy  of  the  human  nature,  this  laft  branch 
of  knowledge  borrows  its  principles  from  no  other 
fcience  whatever.  Hence  there  is  fomething  in  the 
ftudy  of  it,  which  is  peculiarly  gratifying  to  a  reflecl: 
ing  and  inquifitive  mind  ;  and  fomething  in  the  con 
tluuons  to  which  it  leads,  on  which  the  mind  re" 


-|| 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  25 

With  peculiar  fitisfaction.  Till  once  our  opinions  are 
in  iome  degree  fixed  with  refpect  to  it,  we  abandon 
ourfelv^es,  with  relu<5lance,  to  particular  fcientific  in- 
veftigations  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  2^  general 
knowledge  of  fuch  of  its  principles  as  are  moil  fitted 
to  excite  the  curiofity,  not  only  prepares  us  for  en- 
gaging in  other  purfuits  with  more  liberal  and  com- 
prehenfive  views,  but  leaves  us  at  liberty  to  profe- 
cute  them  with  a  more  undivided  and  concentrated 
attention.. 

It  is  not,  however,  mer  ly  as  a  fubjed  of  fpecula- 
tive  curiofity,  that  the  principles  of  the  human  mind 
deferve  a  careful  examination.  The  advantages  to 
be  expected  from  a  fuccelsful  analyfis  of  it  are  vari- 
ous ;  and  fome  of  them  of  fuch  importance,  as  to 
render  it  aftonifhing,  that,  amidft  all  the  fuccefs  with 
which  the  fubordinate  fciences  have  been  cultivated, 
this,  which  comprehends  the  principles  of  all  of  them, 
fhould  be  Hill  fuifered  to  remain  ir  its  infancy. 

I  (hall  endeavor  to  illuftrate  a  few  of  thefe  advan- 
tages, beginning  with  what  appears  to  me  to  be  the 
moft  important  of  any  ;  the  light,  which  a  philofophi- 
cal  analyfis  of  the  principles  of  the  mind  would  lie- 
ceflarily  throw,  on  the  lubjects  of  intellectual  and 
moral  education. 

rhe  moft  effential  obje(51:s  of  education  are  the  two 
following  :  Firit,  to  cultivate  all  the  various  princi- 
ples of  our  nature,  both  fpeculative  and  active,  in 
fuch  a  manner  as  to  bring  them  to  the  greateft  per- 
fection of  which  they  are  fufceptible  ;  and.  Secondly, 
by  w.atching  over  the  impreflions  and  alTociations 
which  the  mind  receives  in  early  life,  to  fecure  it 
againft  the  influence  of  prevailing  errors  ;  and,  as 
far  as  poifible,  to  engage  its  prepofleflions  on  the  fide 
of  truth.  It  is  only  upon  a  philofophical  analyfis  of 
the  mind,  that  a  fyftematicd  plan  can  be  founded, 
for  the  accompliihment  of  either  of  thefe  purpofcs. 

There  are  few  individuals,  whufe  education  has 
D 


2&  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

been  conduci:ed  in  every  refpe(^  with  attention  and 
judgment.  Almoft  every  man  of  refleclion  is  con- 
fcious,  when  he  arrives  at  maturity,  of  many  defects 
in  his  mental  powers  ;  and  of  many  inconvenient 
habits,  which  might  have  been  prevented  or  reme- 
died  in  his  infancy  or  youth.  Such  a  confcioufnefk 
is  the  firft  flep  towards  improvement ;  and  the  per- 
fon  who  feels  it,  if  he  is  pojDTeffed  of  refoiution  and 
fteadinefe,  will  not  fcruple  to  begin,  even  in  advan- 
ced years,  a  new  courfe  of  education  for  himfelf. 
The  degree  of  reflection  and  obfervation,  indeed, 
which  is  necefTiry  for  this  purpofe,  cannot  be  expect- 
ed from  any  one  at  a  very  early  period  of  life,  as 
thefe  are  the  loft  powers  of  the  mind  which  unfold 
themfelves  ;  but  it  is  never  too  late  to  think  of  the 
improvement  of  our  faculties  ;  and  much  progrefs 
may  be  made,  in  the  art  of  applying  them  fuccelsful- 
ly  to  their  proper  objeds,  or  in  obviating  the  in- 
conveniencies  refulting  from  their  imperfe^ion,  not 
only  in  manhood,  but  in  old  age. 

It  is  not,  however,  to  the  millakes  of  our  early  in. 
llrud ors,  that  all  our  intellectual  defects  are  to  be 
afcribed.  There  is  no  profeflion  or  purfuit  which 
has  not  habits  peculiar  to  itfelf ;  and  which  does  not 
leave  fome  powers  of  the  mind  dormant,  while  it 
exercifes  and  improves  the  reft.  If  we  wifti,  there- 
fore, to  cultivate  the  mind  to  the  extent  of  its  capaci- 
ty, we  muft  not  reft  fatisfied  with  that  employment 
which  its  faculties  receive  from  our  particular  fitua- 
tion  in  life.  It  is  not  in  the  awkward  and  profefli  >n- 
al  fv)rm  of  a  mechanic,  who  has  ftrengthened  partic- 
ular mufcles  of  his  body  by  the  habits  of  his  trade, 
that  w^e  are  to  look  for  the  perfection  of  our  animal 
nature  :  neither  is  it  among  men.  of  confined  pur- 
fuits,  whether  fpeculative  or  adive,  that  we  are  to 
ex;)ed  to  hiid  the  huinan  mind  in  its  higheft  ftate  of 
cui rival  ion.  A  variety  of  exercifes  is  necefTary  to 
preferve  the  animal  frame  in  vigour  and  beauty ;  and 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINB.  2Y 

a  variety  of  thofe  occupations  which  literature  and 
fcience  afford,  added  to  a  promifcuous  intercourfe 
with  the  world,  in  the  habits  of  converfation  and  bu« 
finefs,  is  no  lefs  neceflkry  for  the  improvement  of  the 
underftanding.  T  acknowledge,  that  there  are  fome 
profeffions,  in  which  a  man  of  very  confined  acqui- 
iitions  may  arrive  at  the  firlf  eminence  ;  and  in 
which  he  will  perhaps  be  the  more  likely  to  excel, 
the  more  he  has  coiicentrated  the  whole  force  of  his 
mind  to  one  particular  objed.  But  fuch  a  perfon, 
however  diftinguiihed  in  his  own  fphere,  is  educated 
merely  to  be  a  literary  artifan  ;  and  neither  attains 
theperfedioUjUor  the  happinefs  of  his  nature.  "That 
"  education  only  can  be  confidered  as  complete  and 
"  generous,  which"  (in  the  language  of  Milton )  "  fits 
*'  a  man  to  perform  juftly,  fkilfully,  and  magnanim- 
"  oully,  all  the  offices,  both  private  and  public,  of 
"  peac^,  and  of  war*." 

I  hope  it  will  not  be  fuppofed,  from  the  foregoing 
obfervations,  that  they  are  meant  to  recommend  an 
indiscriminate  attention  to  all  the  objects  of  fpecula- 
tion  and  of  a(!lion.  Nothing  can  be  more  evident, 
than  the  neceffity  of  limiting  the  field  of  our  exertion, 
if  we  wifti  to  benefit  fociety  by  our  labours.  But  it 
is  perfectly  ccnfiftent  with  the  moft  intenfe  applica^ 
tion  to  our  favourite  purfuit,  to  cultivate  that  gen- 
eral acquaintance  with  letters  and  with  the  world, 
which  may  be  fufficient  to  enlarge  the  mind,  and  to 
preferve  it  from  any  danger  of  contracting  the  pe- 
dantry of  a  particular  profeflion.  In  many  cafes, 
(as  was  already  remarked,)  the  fciences  refled  light 
on  each  other  ;  and  the  general  acquifitions  which 
we  have  made  in  other  purfuits,  may  furnifh  us  with 
ufeful  helps  for  the  farther  profecution  of  our  own. 
But  even  in  thofe  inflances  in  which  the  cafe  is  oth- 
erwife,  and  in  which  thefe  liberal  accomplilhments 
mud  be  purchafed  by  the  facrifice  of  a  part  of  our 
*  Tractate  of  Education, 


28  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

profeffional  eminence,  the  acquiTition  of  them  will 
amply  repay  any  lofs  we  may  luUain.  It  ought  not' 
to  be  the  leading  object:  of  any  one,  to  become  an  emi- 
nent metaphyfician,  mathematician,  or  poet ;  but  to 
render  himfelf  happy  as  an  individual,  and  an  agree- 
able, a  refped:able,  and  an  ufeful  niember  of  fociety- 
A  man  who  lofes  his  light,  improves  the  fenf^biiity 
of  his  touch  ;  but  who  would  confent,  for  fuch  a  re- 
compence,  to  part  with  the  pleafiues  which  he  receives 
from  the  eye  ? 

It  is  almoft  unnecelTary  for  me  to  remark,  how 
much  individuals  would  be  afTifted  in  the  proper  and 
liberal  culture  of  the  mind,  if  they  were  previoufly 
led  to  take  a  comprehenfive  furvey  of  human  nature 
in  all  its  parts  ;  of  its  various  faculties,  and  powers  and 
fources  of  enjoyment;  andof  the  eifeds  which  are  pro- 
duced on  thefe  principles  by  particular  fituations.  It  is 
fuch  a  knowledge  alone  of  the  capacities  of  the  mind, 
that  can  enable  a  perfon  to  judge  of  his  own  acqui- 
fitions ;  and  to  en^ploy  the  moft  effeduai  means  for 
fupj3lying  his  defects,  and  removing  l^s  inconvenient 
habits.  Without  fome  degree  of  it,  every  man  is  in 
danger  of  coptracling  bad  habits,  before  he  is  aware  ; 
and  of  fuffering  fome  of  his  powers  to  go  to  decay, 
for  want  of  proper  exercife. 

If  the  bufmefs  of  early  educatic^n  were  more  tho- 
roughly,  and  more  generally,  underllood,  it  would 
be  lefs  necefi'ary  for  individuals,  when  they  arrive  at 
maturity,  to  form  plans  of  improvenient  for  them- 
felves.  But  education  never  can  be  iyilerriatically 
directed  to  its  proper  objects,  till  we  have  obtained, 
not  only  an  accurate  analylis  of  the  general  princi- 
ples of  our  nature,  and  an  account  ot  the  moft  im- 
portant laws  which  regulate  their  operation  ;  but  an 
explanation  of  the  various  modifications  and  combi- 
nati(^ns  of  thefe  principles,  which  produce  that  di- 
verfity  of  talents,  genius,  and  cl^ar^cter,  we  obferve 
among  men.    To  inibuct  youth  in  the  languages. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  20 

and  in  the  fciences,  is  comp  iratively  of  little  impor- 
tance, it  we  are  inattentive   to  the  habits  tliey  ac- 
quire ;  and  are  not  careful  in  giving,  to    all   their 
different  faculties,  and  ail  their  different  principles  of 
adion,  a  proper  degree  of  emplo)  ment.     Abftnct- 
ing  entirely  from  the  culture  of  their  moral  povi^ers, 
ho\^  extenfive  and  difficult  is   the   bufinefs  of  con- 
dueling  their  intelledfual  improvement  !    I'o  watch 
over  the  .ifTociations  which  they  form  in  their  ten- 
der years  ;  to  give  them  early  habits  of  n  ental  activ- 
ity ;  to  roufe  their  curiofity,  and  to  direct  it  to  prop- 
er objects ;   to  exercife  their   ingenuity  and  inven- 
tion ;  to  cultivate  in  their  minds  a  turn  for  fpecula- 
tion,  and  at  the  fame  time  prelerve  their  attention 
alive  to  the  objects  around  them  ;  to  awaken  their 
fenfibilities  to  the  beauties  (»f  nature,  and  to  infpire 
them  with  a  relifti  for  intellectual  enjoyment ;  thefe 
form  but  a  part  of  the  bufinefs  of  education  ;    and 
yet  the  execution  even  of  this  part  requires  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  general  principles  ot  our  nature, 
which  feldom  falls   to  the  fhare  of  thofe  to  whom 
the  inftru^lion  of  youth  is  commonly  intrufted. — 
Nor  will  fuch  a  theoretical  knowledge  of  the  hunum 
mind,  as  I  have  now  defcribed,  be  always  fufficient 
in  prad:ice.     An  uncommon  degree  of  fagacity   is 
frequently  requifite,  in  order  to  accommodate  gene- 
ral rules  to  particular  tempers,  and  characters. — In 
whatever  way  we  chufe  to  account  for  it,  whether 
by  original  organization,  or  by  the  operation  of  mor- 
al  caufes,  in  very  early  infancy  ;  no  fact  can  be  more 
undeniable,  than  that  there  are  important  differences 
difcernible  in  the  minds  of  children,  previous  t(^  that 
period  at  which,  in  general,  t  eir  intellectual  educa- 
tion commences.     There  is,  too,  a  certain  heredita- 
ry chara(5ter  (whether  refulting  from  phyiical  con- 
{titution,  or  caught  from  imitation  and  the  influence 
of  fituation.)  which  appears  remarkably  inpn-ticiilar 
families.     One  race,  for  a  fucceffiun  ot  generations. 


so  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPY 

is  diftinguifhed  by  a  genius  for  the  abftra6l:  fciences, 
while  it  is  deficient  in  vivacity,  in  imagination,  and 
in  rafte :  another  is  no  lefs  diftinguifhed  for  wit, 
and  gaiety,  and  fancy ;  while  it  appears  incapable  of 
patient  attention,  or  of  profound  refearch.  The 
fyftem  of  education  which  is  proper  to  be  adopted 
in  particu  ar  cafes,  ought,  undoubtedly,  to  have  fome 
reference  to  thefe  circumftances  ;  and  to  be  calcula- 
ted, as  much  as  poffible,  to  develope  and  to  cherifli 
f^ thofe  intelUclual  and  active  principles,  in  which  a 
natural  deficiency  is  moft  to  be  apprehended.  Mon- 
tefquieu,  and  other  fpeculative  politicians,  have  in- 
fifted  much  on  the  reference  which  education  and 
laws  fhould  have  to  climate.  I  fhall  not  take  upon 
me  to  fay,  how  far  their  conclufions  on  this  fubje^b 
are  juft  ;  but  I  am  fully  perluaded,  that  there  is  a 
foundation  in  philofophy,  and  good  fenfe,  for  ac- 
commodating, at  a  very  early  period  of  life,  the  ed- 
ucation of  individuals  to  thofe  particular  turns  of 
mind,  to  which,  from  hereditary  propenfities,  or 
from  moral  fituation,  they  may  be  prefumed  to  have 
a  natural  tendency. 

There  are  few  fubje<^s  more  hackneyed  than  that 
of  education  ;  and  yet  there  is  none,  upon  which  the 
opinions  of  the  world  are  ftill  more  divided.  Nor 
is  this  furprifing ;  for  moft  of  thofe  who  have  fpec- 
ulated  concerning  it,  have  confined  their  attention 
chiefly  to  incidental  queftions  about  the  compara- 
tive advantages  of  public  or  private  inftruclion,  or 
the  utility  of  particular  languages  or  fciences  ;  with- 
out attempting  a  previous  examination  of  thofe  fac- 
ulties and  principles  of  the  mind,  which  it  is  the 
great  object  of  education  to  improve.  Many  excel- 
lent detached  obfervations,  indeed,  both  on  the  in- 
telledlual  and  moral  powers,  are  to  be  collected  from 
the  writings  of  ancient  and  modern  authors  ;  but  I 
do  not  know,  that  in  any  language  an  attempt  has 
been  made  to  analyfe  and  iliuftr^te  the  principles  of 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND^  31 

human  nature,  in  order  to  lay  a  philofophical  foun- 
dation for  their  proper  culture. 

I  have  even  heard  fome  very  ingenious  and  in- 
telligent men  difpute  the  propriety  of  fo  fyftematical 
a  plan  of  inftru<5i:ion.  The  moft  fuccefstul  and 
fplendid  exertions,  both  in  the  fciences  and  arts,  (it 
has  been  frequently  remarked,)  have  been  made  by 
individuals,  in  whofe  minds  the  feeds  cf  genius  were 
allowed  to  ftioot  up,  wild  and  free  ;  while,  from 
the  moft  careful  and  Ikilful  tuition,  feldom  any 
thing  refults  above  mediocrity.  I  (hall  not,  at  pref- 
ent,  enter  into  any  difcuflions  with  refpe^l  to  the 
certainty  of  the  fad:  on  which  this  opinion  is  found- 
ed.  Suppofing  the  facl  to  be  completely  eftablifhed, 
it  muft  ftill  be  remembered,  that  originality  of  gen- 
ius does  not  always  imply  vigor  and  comprehenlive- 
nefs,  and  liberality  of  mind  ;  and  that  it  is  defirable 
only,  in  fo  far  as  it  is  compatible  with  thele  more 
valuable  qualities.  I  already  hinted,  that  there  are 
fome  purfuits,in  which,  as  they  require  the  exertion 
only  of  a  fmall  number  of  our  faculties,  an  individu- 
al, who  has  a  natural  turn  for  them,  will  be  more 
likely  to  diftinguifh  himfelf,  by  being  fufFered  to  fol- 
low his  original  bias,  than  if  his  attention  were  dif; 
traded  by  a  more  liberal  courfe  of  iludy.  But 
wherever  fuch  men  are  to  be  found,  they  muft  be 
conlidered,  on  the  moft  favorable  fuppofition,  as 
having  facrificed,  to  a  certain  degree,  the  perfe<^- 
ion  and  the  happinefs  of  their  nature,  to  the  aniufe- 
ment  or  inftrudion  of  others.  It  is  too,  in  times  of 
general  darknefs  and  barbarifm,  that  wliat  is  com- 
monly called  originality  of  genius  moft  frequently 
appears  :  and  furely  the  great  aim  of  an  enlighten- 
ed and  benevolent  philofophy,  is  not  to  rear  a  fmall 
number  of  individuals,  who  may  be  regarded  a^ 
prodigies  in  an  ignorant  and  admiring  age,  but  to 
diffufe,  as  widely  as  poflible,  that  degree  of  cuhiva- 
tion  which  may  enable  the  bulk  of  a  people  to  pof- 


3-2  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fefs  all  the  intelledual  and  moral  improvement  ot 
which  their  nature  is  fuTceptible.  "  Original  gen- 
ius" (»ays  Voltaire)  "  occurs  but  feldom  in  a  nation 
*'  where  the  literary  tafte  is  formed.  The  number 
*'  of  cultivated  minds  which  there  abound,  like  the 
"  trees  in  a  thick  and  flourifhing  foreft,  prevent  any 
"  fmgie  individual  from  rearing  his  head  far  above  the 
*'  reft.  Where  trade  is  in  few  hands,  we  meet  with 
"  a  fmall  number  of  ovrer-grown  fortunes  in  the 
<'  midft  of  a  general  poverty  :  in  proportion  as  it 
"  extends,  opulence  becomes  general,  and  great  for- 
"  tunes  rare.  It  is,  precifely,  becaufe  there  is  at 
"  prefent  much  light,  and  much  cultivation,  in 
"  France,  that  we  are  led  to  complain  of  the  want 
*'  of  fuperior  genius." 

To  what  purpofe,  indeed,  it  may  be  faid,  all  this 
labor  ?  Is  not  the  importance  of  every  thing  to  man, 
to  be  ultiniately  eftimated  by  its  tendency  to  pro- 
mote his  happinefs  ?  And  is  not  our  daily  experi- 
ence fufEcient  to  convince  us,  that  this  is^  in  geiier- 
al,  by  no  means  proportioned  to  the  culture  which 
his  nature  has  received  ? — Nay,  is  there  not  fome 
ground  for  fufpedling,  thai  the  lower  orders  of  men 
enjoy,  on  the  wht)ie,  a  more  enviable  condition, 
than  their  more  enlightened  and  refined  fuperiors  ? 

The  truth,  1  apprehend,  is,  that  happinefs,  in  fo 
far  as  it  arifes  from  the  mind  itfelf,  will  be  always 
proportioned  to  the  degree  of  perfection  which  its 
powers  have  attained  ;  but  that,  in  cultivating  thefe 
powers,  with  a  view  to  this  mofl  important  of  all 
objects,  it  is  effentially  neceffary  that  fiich  a  degree 
of  attention  be  beftowed  on  all  of  them,  as  may  pre- 
ferve  them  in  that  ftate  of  relative  ftrength,  which 
appears  to  be  agreeable  to  the  intentions  of  nature. 
In  confequence  of  an  exclufive  attention  to  the  cul- 
ture of  the  imaginition,  the  tafte,  therealoning  fac- 
ulty, or  any  of  the  active  principles,  it  is  poflible  that 
the  pleafures  of  human  life  may  be  diminiihed,  or 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  33 

its  pains  increafed  ;  but  the  inconvenienees  which 
are  experienced  in  fuch  cafes,  are  not  to  be  alcribed 
to  education,  but  to  a  partial  and  injudicious  educa- 
tion. In  fuch  cafes,  it  is  poflible,  that  the  poet,  the 
metaphyfician,  or  the  man  of  tafte  and  refinement, 
may  appear  to  difadvantage,  when  comf)ared  with 
the  vulgar  ;  for  fuch  is  the  benevolent  appointn^ent 
of  Providence  with  refpect  to  the  lower  orders,  that 
although  not  one  principle  of  their  nature  be  com- 
pletely unfolded,  the  whole  of  thefe  principles  pre- 
ferve  among  themfelves,  that  balance  which  is  fa- 
vorable to  the  tranquillity  of  their  minds  and  to  a 
prudent  and  fteady  conduct  in  the  limited  Iphere 
which  is  afligned  to  them,  far  more  completely,  than' 
in  thofe  of  th«ir  fuperiors,  whofe  education  has  be4?n 
conduced  on  an  erroneous  or  imperfedl  fyttem  :  but 
all  this,  far  from  weakening  the  force  ot  the  forego- 
ing obfervations,  only  ferves  to  denionftrate  how 
impoflible  it  always  uill  be,  to  form  a  rational  plan 
for  the  improvement  of  the  mind,  without  an  accu- 
rate and  comprehenfive  knowledge  ot  the  principles 
of  the  human  conllitution. 

"(he  remarks  which  have  been  already  made,  are 
fufficient  to  illuftrate  the  dangerous  conlequences 
which  are  likely  to  refult  from  a  partial  and  injutii- 
cious  cultivation  of  the  mind  ;  and,  at  the  fame  time, 
to  point  out  the  utility  of  the  intelledual  philofophy, 
in  enabling  us  to  preferve  a  proper  balance  among 
all  its  various  faculties,  principles  of  action,  and  ca- 
pacities of  enjoyment.  Many  additional  obfierva- 
tions  might  be  offered,  on  the  tendency  which  an 
accurate  analyfis  of  its  powers  n  ight  probably  have, 
to  fuggeft  rules  for  their  farther  improvement,  and 
for  a  more  fuccefsful  application  of  them  to  their 
proper  purpofes  :  but  this  fubjed  I  (hall  not  prole- 
cute  at  prefent,  as  the  illuftration  of  it  is  one  of  the 
leading  obje(51:s  of  the  following  work. — Ihat  tiie 
memory,  the  imaginaiion,  or  tne  reaionig  fatuity, 
E 


34f  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

are  to  be  inftantly  ftrengthened  in  confequence  of 
our  fpeculations  concerning  their  nature,  it  would 
be  abfurd  to  fuppofe  ;  but  it  is  furely  far  from  be- 
ing unreafonable  to  think,  that  an  acquaintance  with 
the  laws  which  regulate  thefe  powers,  may  fuggeil 
some  ufeful  rules  for  their  gradual  cultivation  ;  for 
remedying  their  defects,  in  the  cafe  of  individuals, 
and  even  for  extending  thofe  limits,  which  nature 
feems,  at  firft  view,  to  have  ailigned  them. 

To  how  great  a  degree  of  perfection  the  intellect- 
ual and  moral  nature  of  man  is  capable  of  being 
raifed  by  cultivation,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive.  The 
effects  of  early,  continued,  and  fyftematical  educa- 
tion, in  the  cafe  of  thofe  children  who  are  trained, 
for.  the  fake  of  gain,  to  feats  of  ftrength  and  agility, 
juftify,  perhaps,  the  moft  fanguine  views  which  it  is 
poffible  for  a  philofopher  to  form,  with  refped  to 
the  improvement  of  the  fpecies. 

I  now  proceed  to  confider,  how  far  the  philofo- 
phy  of  mind  may  be  ufeful  in  accomplifliing  the  fec- 
ond  object  of  education  ;  by  afliiting  us  in  the  man- 
agement of  early  imprelfions  and  afibciations. 

By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  opinions  on  which 
we  act  in  life,  are  not  the  refult  of  our  own  invefti- 
gations ;  but  are  adopted  implicitly,  in  infancy 
and  youth,  upon  the  authority  of  others.  Even 
the  great  principles  of  morality,  although  implant- 
ed in  every  heart,  are  commonly  aided  and  cher- 
ifhed,  at  leaft  to  a  certain  degree,  by  the  care  of 
our  inftru6tors. — All  this  is  undoubtedly  agreea- 
ble to  the  intentions  of  nature  ;  and,  indeed,  were 
the  cafe  other  wife,  fociety  could  not  fubfift ;  for 
nothing  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  the  bulk  of 
mankind,  condemned  as  they  are  to  laborious  oc- 
cupations, which  are  incon  patible  with  intelledu- 
al  improvement,  are  perfectly  incapable  of  foruiing 
their  own  opinions  on  fonie  of  the  molt  imp(irtant 
fubjeds  that  CJWi  employ  the  human  mind.     It  is  ev- 


OF    THE    HUMAN    MIND.  «J 

ident,  at  the  fame  time,  that  as  no  fyftem  of  educa- 
tion is  perfect,  a  variety  of  prejudices  muft  in  this 
way,  take  an  early  hold  of  our  belief ;  fo  as  to  acquire 
over  it  an  influence  not  inferior  to  that  of  the  moft 
incontrovertible  truths.  When  a  child  hears,  either 
a  fpeculative  abfurdity,  or  an  erroneous  principle  of 
action,  recommended  and  enforced  daily,  by  the  fame 
voice  vi^hich  firft  conveyed  to  it  thofe  fimple  and  fub- 
lime  leiTons  of  morality  and  religion  which  are  con- 
genial to  its  nature,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that,  in 
future  life,  it  ihould  find  it  fo  difficult  to  eradicate 
prejudices  which  have  twined  their  roots  with  all 
the  effential  principles  of  the  hum/an  frame  ? — If  fuch, 
however,  be  the  obvious  intentions  of  nature,  with 
refped  to  thofe  orders  of  men  who  are  employed  in 
bodily  labor,  it  is  equally  clear,  that  (he  meant  to  im- 
pofe  it  as  a  double  oblig^ition  on  thofe  who  receive  the 
advantages  of  a  liberal  education,  to  examine,  with 
the  moft  fcrupulous  care,  the  foundation  of  all  thofe 
received  opinions,  which  have  any  connexion  with 
morality,  or  with  human  happinefs.  If  the  multi- 
tude muft;  be  led,  it  is  of  confequence,  furely,  that  it 
fliould  be  led  by  enlightened  conductors  ;  by  men 
who  are  able  to  diftinguifh  truth  from  error  ;  and 
tf'i  draw  the  line  between  thofe  prejudices  which  are 
innocent  or  falutary,  (if  indeed  there  are  any  preju- 
dices which  are  really  falutary,)  and  thofe  which  are 
hoftile  to  the  interells  of  virtue  and  of  mankind. 

In  fuch  a  flate  of  fociety  as  that  in  which  we  live, 
the  prejudices  of  a  moral,  a  political,  and  a  religious 
nature,  which  we  imbibe  in  early  life,  are  fo  various,, 
and  at  the  fam.e  time  fo  intimately  blended  with  the 
belief  we  entertain  of  the  mofl  facred  and  important 
truths,  that  a  great  part  of  the  life  of  a  philofopher 
mufl  neceffirily  be  devoted,  not  fo  much  to  the  ac- 
quifition  of  new  knowledge,  as  to  unlearn  the  er- 
rors to  which  he  had  been  taught  to  give  an  impli- 
cit affent,  before  the  d;^wn  of  reafon  and  refleclion. 


36  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Aiid  unlefs  he  fuSmit  in  this  manner  to  bring  all  his 
opinions  to  the  teft  of  a  fevere  examination,  his  in- 
genuity, and  his  learning,  instead  of  enlightening  the 
world,  will  only  en  ible  him  to  give  an  additional 
currency,  and  an  additional  authority,  to  eftabliihed 
errors.  To  attempt  fuch  a  ftruggle  againll  early 
prejudices,  is,  indeed,  the  profeffed  aim  of  all  philof- 
ophers ;  but  how  few  are  to  be  found  who  have 
force  of  mind  fufficient  for  accompliihing  their  ob- 
ject ;  and  who,  in  freeing  themfelves  from  one  let 
of  errors,  do  not  allow  themfelves  to  be  carried  away 
with  another  ?  To  fucceed  in  it  completely.  Lord 
Bacon  feems  to  have  thought,  fin  one  of  the  moft 
re-.f'arkable  paffages  of  his  writings,)  to  be  more 
than  can  well  be  expelled  from  human  frailty.— 
"  Nemo  adhuc  tanta  mentis  conftantia  inventus  eft, 
*'  ut  decreverit,  et  li  i  impofuerit,  theorias  et  no- 
*'  tiones  communes  peuitus  abolere,  et  intelle£lum 
"  abrafum  et  aequum  ad  particularia,  de  integro,  ap- 
*'  plicare.  Itaque  ilia  ratio  humana,  qiiam  habemus, 
"  ex  multa  fide,  et  multo  etiam  caiii,  nee  non  ex 
"  puerilibus,  quas  primo  haufimus,  notionibus,  far- 
"  rago  qusedam  eft,  et  congeries.  Quod  fiquis,  aetate 
''  matura,  et  fenfibus  integris,  et  mente  repurgata, 
"  fe  ad  experientiam,  et  ad  particularia  deitegro  ap. 
"  plicet,  de  eo  melius  fperaudum  eft.*' 

Nor  is  it  merely  in  order  to  free  the  mind  from 
the  influence  of  error,  that  it  is  ufeful  to  examine 
the  foundation  of  eftabliftied  opinions.  It  is  fuch  an 
examination  alone,  that,  in  an  inquiiitive  age  like 
the  prefent,  ''an  fecure  a  philofopher  from  the  dan- 
ger of  ultimated  fcepticifm.  To  this  extreme,  in- 
deed, the  complexion  of  the  times  is  more  likely  to 
give  him  a  tendency,  than  to  implicit  credulity.  In 
the  former  ages  of  ignorance  and  fuperftition,  the 
intimate  aflbciation  which  had  been  formed,  in  the 
prevailing  fyftems  of  education,  between  truth  and 
error,  had  given  to  the  latter  an  afcendant  over  the. 


OF  THE  H'-^MAN  MIND.  S? 

minds  of  men,  which  it  could  never  have  acquired, 
if  divefted  of  fuch  an  alliance.  The  cafe  has,  of  late 
years,  been  moft  remarkably  reverfed  :  the  common 
fenfe  of  mankind,  in  confequence  of  the  growth  of  a 
more  liberal  fpirit  of  inquiry,  has  revolted  againft  ma- 
ny '>f  thofe  abfurdities,  which  had  fo  long  held  human 
reafon  in  captivity  ;  and  it  was,  f>erhaps,  more  than 
could  reafonably  have  been  expected,  that,  in  the  firft 
m<  ^ments  of  their  emancipation,  philofophers  fhould 
have  flopped  ihort,  at  the  precife  boundary,  which 
C)  :er  refleclion,  and  more  moderate  views,  would 
h  r/e  prefcribed.  The  fact  is,  that  they  have  pafTed 
far  beyond  it  ;  and  that,  in  their  zeal  to  deftroy  preju- 
dices,  they  have  attempted  to  tear  up  by  the  roots, 
niany  of  ♦^he  bed  and  happleftand  moft  elTential  princi- 
ples of  our  nature.  Having  remarked  the  powerful 
influence  of  education  over  the  mind,  they  have  con- 
cluded, that  man  is  wholly  a  factitious  being ;  not  re- 
collecting, that  this  very  fufceptibility  of  education 
preiiippofes  certain  original  principles,  which  are  com- 
mon to  the  whole  fpecies  ;  and  that,  as  error  can  only 
take  a  permanent  hold  of  a  candid  mind  by  being 
graf  t^ed  on  truths,  which  it  is  unwilling  or  unable  to 
eradicate  ;  even  the  influence,  which  falfe  and  abfurd 
opinions  occalionally  acquire  over  the  belief,  inftead 
of  being  an  argument  for  univerfal  fcepticifm,  is  the 
moft  decifive  argument*  againft  it  ;  inafmuch  as  it 
fliews,  that  there  are  fome  truths  fo  incorporated 
and  identified  with  our  nature,  that  they  can  recon- 
cile us  even  to  the  abfurdities  and  contradictions  with 
which  we  fuppofe  them  to  be  infeparably  connected. 
The  fceptical  philofophers,  for  example,  of  the  pres- 
ent age,  have  frequently  attempted  to  hold  up  to  rid- 
icule, thofe  contemptible  and  puerile  fuperftitions, 
which  havje  difgraced  the  creeds  of  fome  of  the  moft 
enlightened  nations  ;  and  which  have  not  only  com- 
manded the  aflent,  but  the  reverence,  of  men  of  the 
moft  accompiiflied  underftandings.     But  thefe  his- 


38  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tories  of  human  imbecility  are,  in  truth,  the  (Irong- 
^ft  teftimonies  which  can  be  produced,  to  prove,  how 
wonderful  is  the  influence  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  morality  over  the  belief;  when  they  are 
able  to  fanclify,  in  the  apprehenfions  of  mankind, 
every  extravagant  opinion,  and  every  unmeaning 
ceremony,  which  early  education  has  taught  us  to 
affociate  with  them. 

I  hat  implicit  credulity  is  a  mark  of  a  feeble  mind, 
will  not  be  difputed  ;  but  it  may  not,  perhaps,  be 
as  generally  acknowledged,  that  the  cafe  is  the  fame 
with  unlimited  fcepticifm  :  on  the  contrary,  we  are 
•fometimes  apt  to  afcribe  this  difpofition  to  a  more 
than  ordinary  vigor  of  intellect.  Such  a  prejudice 
w^as  by  no  means  unnatural  at  that  period  in  the 
hiftory  of  modern  Europe,  when  reafon  firft  began 
to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  authority  ;  and  when  it 
unqueftionably  required  a  fuperiority  of  underftand- 
ing,  as  well  as  of  intrepidity,  for  an  individual  to  re- 
iid  the  contagion  of  prevailing  fuperilition.  But  in 
the  prefent  age,  in  which  the  tendency  of  falhiona- 
ble  opinions  is  dire6lly  oppofite  to  thofe  of  the  vul- 
gar ;  the  philofophical  creed,  or  the  philofophical 
fcepticifm  of  by  far  the  greater  number  of  thi)fe  who 
value  themfelves  on  an  emancipation  from  popular 
errors,  arifes  from  the  very  fame  weaknefs  with  the 
credulity  of  the  multitude  "^  nor  is  it  going  too  far 
to  fay,  with  Roufleau,  that  "  He,  who,  in  the  end 
^^  of  the  eighteenth  century,  has  brought  himfelf  to 
"  abandon  all  his  early  principles  without  difcrimina- 
^'  tion,  would  probably  have  been  a  bigot  in  the 
''  days  of  the  League."  In  the  midft  of  thefe  con- 
trary impulfes,  of  fafhionable  and  of  vulgar  prejudi- 
ces, he  alone  evinces  the  fuperiority  and  the  ilrength 
of  his  mind,  who  is  able  to  difentangle  truth  from 
error  ;  and  to  oppofe  the  clear  conclulions  of  his 
own  unbiafled  faculties,  to  the  united  clamours  of 
fuperflition,  and  of  talfe  philofophy. — Such  are  the 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  39 

men,  whom  nature  marks  out  to  be  the  lights  of  the 
world  ;  to  fix  the  wavering  opinions  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  to  imprefs  their  own  characters  on  that  of 
their  age. 

For  fecuring  the  mind  completely  from  the  weak- 
nefles  I  have  now  been  defcribing  and  enabling  it  to 
maintain  a  fteady  courfe  of  inquiry,  between  inipiicit 
credulity,  and  unlimited  fcepticifm,  the  moil  impor- 
tant of  all  qualities  is  a  iincere  and  devoted  attach- 
ment to  truth  ;  which  feldom  fails  to  be  accompani- 
ed with  a  manly  confidence  in  the  clear  conclufions 
of  human  reafon.  It  is  fuch  a  confidence,  united, 
(as  it  generally  is)  with  perfonal  intrepidity,  which 
forms  what  the  French  writers  call  force  of  character; 
one  of  the  rareft  endowments,  it  muft  be  confefled, 
of  our  fpecies  ;  but  which,  of  all  endowments,  is  the 
moft  effential  for  rendering  a  philofopher  happy  in 
himfelf,  and  a  bleffing  to  mankind. 

There  is,  I  think,  good  reafon  for  hoping,  that 
the  fceptical  tendency  of  the  prefent  age,  will  be  only 
a  temporary  evil.  While  it  continues,  however,  it 
is  an  evil  of  the  moft  alarming  nature  ;  and,  as  it  ex- 
tends, in  general,  not  only  to  religion  and  morality, 
but  in  fome  meafure,  alfo,  to  politics,  and  the  conduct 
of  life,  it  is  equally  fatal  to  the  comfort  of  f.he  indi- 
vidual, and  to  the  improvement  of  fociety.  Even 
in  its  moft  inoffenfive  form,  when  it  happens  to  be 
united  with  a  peaceable  difpofition  and  a  benevolent 
heart,  it  cannot  fail  to  have  the  effect  of  damping 
every  ad:ive  and  patriotic  exertion.  Convinced  tiiat 
truth  is  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  human  faculties  ; 
and  doubtful  how  far  the  prejudices  we  delpife  may 
not  be  eflential  to  the  well-being  of  fociety,  we  re- 
folve  to  abandon  completely  all  fpeculative  inquiries  ; 
and  fuffering  ourfelves  to  be  carried  quietly  ai<aig 
with  the  ftream  of  popular  opinions,  and  ot  talliiun- 
able  manners,  determine  to  amufe  ourfelves,  the  Left 
way  we  can,  with  bufinefs  or  piealure,  during  our 


40  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fliort  pafTage  through  this  fcene  of  illufions.  But  he 
who  thinks  more  favourably  of  the  human  pow  ers, 
and  who  believes  that  reafon  was  given  to  man  to 
direft  him  to  his  duty  and  his  happinels,  will  deipife 
the  fuggeftions  of  this  timid  philolbphy  ;  and  while 
he  is  confcious  that  he  is  gui.led  in  his  inquiries  only 
by  the  love  of  truth,  wih  refl  affured  that  their  re- 
fult  will  be  equally  favourable,  to  his  own  comfort, 
and  to  the  beft  intereft  of  mankind.  What,  indeed, 
will  be  the  particular  effects  in  the  firft  inftance,  of 
that  general  difFufion  of  knowledge,  which  the  art 
of  printing  muft  fooner  or  later  produce  ;  and  of 
that  fpirit  of  reformation  with  which  it  cannot  tail 
to  be  accompanied,  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
fagacity  to  conjedure  ;  but  unlefs  we  chufe  to  aban- 
don ourfelves  entirely  to  a  defponding  fcepticilm, 
we  muft  hope  and  believe,  that  the  progrefs  of  hu- 
man reafon  can  never  be  a  fource  of  permanent  dis- 
order to  the  world  ;  and  that  they  alone  have  caufe 
to  apprehend  the  confequences,  who  are  led,  by  the 
imperfedion  of  our  preient  inftitutions,  to  feel  them- 
felves  interefled  in  perpetuating  the  prejudices,  and 
follies,  of  their  fpecies. 

From  the  obfervations  which  have  been  made,  it 
fufficiently  appears,  that  in  order  to  fecure  the  mind 
on  the  one  hand,  from  the  influence  of  prejudice  ; 
and  on  the  other,  from  a  tendency  to  unlimited 
fcepticifm  ;  it  is  necefTary  that  it  fliould  be  able  to 
diftinguilh  the  original  and  univerfal  principles  and 
laws  of  human  nature,  from  the  adventitious  effeds 
of  local  fituation.  But  if,  in  the  cafe  of  an  individ- 
ual, who  has  received  an  imperfect  or  erroneous  ed- 
ucation, fuch  a  knowledge  puts  it  in  his  power  to 
corred,  to  a  certain  degree,  his  own  bad  habits,  and 
to  furmount  his  owm  ipeculative  errors  ;  it  enables 
him  to  be  ufeful,  in  a  mugli  higher  degree,  to  thofe 
whofa  education  he  has  an  opportunity  of  fuperinr 
tending  from  early  infancy.     Such,  and  fo  perma- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  41 

nent,  is  the  efFe<^  of  firft  impreflions,  on  the  charr»6ler, 
that  although  a  phiiofbpher   may  fucceed,  by  perfe-^ 
verance,  in  freeing  his  reafon  from  the  prejudices 
with  which  he  was  entangled,  they  will  ftil]  retain 
fome  hold  of  his  imagination,  and  his  afFeclions  :  and, 
therefore,  however  enlightened  his  underftanding 
may  be  in  his  hours  of  fpeculation,  his  philofophical 
opinions  will  frequently  lofe  their  influence  over  his 
mi?.d,  in  thofe  very  fuuations  in  v^hich  their  pradli- 
cal  afliftance  is  moil  required  ; — when  his  temper  is 
foured  by  misfortune  ;  or  W'hen  he  engages  in  the 
pur'uits  of  life,  and  expofes  himfelf  to  the  contagion 
of  popular  errors.     His  opinions  are  fupported  mere- 
ly by  fpeculative  arguments  ;  and,  inllead  of  being 
conneded  with  any  of  the  active  principles  of  his  na- 
ture, are  counteraAed  and  thwarted  by  fome  of  the 
mod  powerful  of  them.     How  different  would  the 
cafe  be,  if  education  were  conducted,  from  the  begin- 
ning, with  attention  and  judgment  ?  Were  the  fame 
pains  taken,  to  imprefs  truth  on  the  mind  in  early 
infancy,  that  is  often  taken  to  inculcate  error,  the 
great  principles  of  our  conduct  would  not  only  be 
jufter  than  they  are  ;  but,  in  confequence  of  the  aid 
which  they  would  receive  from  the  imagination  and 
the  heart,  trained  to  confpire  with  them  in  the  fame 
direction,  they  wouid  render  uc.  happier  in  ourfelves, 
and  would  influence  our  pradice  more  powerfully 
and   more  habitually.     There  is  furely  nothing  in 
error,  which  is  more  congenial  to  the  mind  than 
truth.     On  the  contrary,  when  exhibited  feparately 
and  alone  to  the  underftanding,  it  fliocks  our  reafon, 
and  provokes  our  ridicule  ;  and  it  is  only,  (as  I  had 
occafion  already  to  remark,)  by  an  alliance   with 
truths,  which  we  find  it  difiicult  to  renounce,  that 
it  can  obtain  our  aflent,  or  command  our  reverence. 
What  advantages,  then,  might  be  derived  from  a 
proper  attention  to  early  imprefTions  and  aff  ciations, 
in  giving  fupport  to  thofe  principles  which  are  con- 
F 


42  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

i>e6led  with  human  happiriefs  ?  The  long  reign  of 
error  in  the  world,  and  the  influence  it  maintains, 
even  in  an  age  of  liberal  inquiry  ;  far  from  being 
favourable  to  the  fuppofition,  that  human  renfon  is 
deftined  to  be  for  ever  the  fport  of  prejudice  and 
abfurdity,  demonftrates  the  tendency  which  there  is 
to  permanence  in  eflabhflied  opinions,  and  in  eftab- 
lifhed  inftitutions ;  and  promifes  an  eternal  liability 
to  true  philofophy,  when  it  fliall  once  have  acquired 
the  afcendant ;  and  when  proper  means  fhall  be  em- 
ployed to  fupport  it,  by  a  more  perfed:  fyftem  of 
education. 

Let  us  fuppofe,  for  a  moment,  that  this  happy  asra 
were  arrived,  and  that  all  the  prepofTefllons  of  child- 
hood and  youth  were  directed  to  fupport  the  pure 
and  fublime  truths  of  an  enliglitened  morality. — 
"With  what  ardour,  and  with  what  tranfport,  would 
the  underftanding,  when  arrived  at  maturity,  pro- 
ceed in  the  fearch  of  truth  ;  when,  inftead  of  being 
obliged  to  ftruggle,  at  every  ftep,  with  early  preju- 
dices,  its  office  was  merely  to  add  the  force  of  philo- 
fophical  conviclion,  to  impreflions,  which  are  equally 
delightful  to  the  imagination,  and  dear  to  the  heart ! 
The  prepofieflions  of  childhood  would,  through  the 
whole  of  life,  be  gradually  acquiring  ftrength  from 
the  enlargement  of  our  knowledge  ;  and,  in  their 
turn,  would  fortify  the  conclufions  of  our  realon, 
againft  the  fceptical  fuggeflions  of  difappointment  or 
melar^choly. 

Our  daily  experience  may  convince  us,  how  fus- 
CQptible  the  tender  mind  is  of  deep  impreilions  ;  and 
what  important  and  permanent  effects  are  produced 
on  the  characters,  and  the  happinefs  of  individuals, 
by  the  cafual  aflociations  formed  in  childhood  among 
the  various  ideas,  feelings,  and  affections,  with  which 
they  were  habitually  occupied.  It  is  the  bufinefs  of 
education  not  to  countcrad  this  conflitution  of  na- 
ture, but-to  give  it  a  proper  direction  :  and  the  mifer 


OF  THB  HUMAN  MIND.  ^  4G 

Able  confequences  to  whicli  it  leads,  when  under  an 
improper  regulation,  only  flievv,  what  an  important 
inilrument  of  human  improvement  it  might  be  ren- 
dered, in  more  Ikiltul  hands.  If  it  be  poflible  to  in« 
tereft  the  imagination  and  the  heart  in  favor  of  error, 
it  is,  at  leaft,  no  lefs  poiTible  to  intereil  them  in  favor 
of  truth.  If  it  be  poflible  to  ^xtinguifti  all  the  moft 
generous  and  heroic  feelings  of  our  nature,  by  teach- 
ini^  us  to  conned  the  idea  of  them  with  thofe  of 
guilt  and  impiety  ;  it  is  furely  equally  poflible  to 
cherifh  and  ftrerigthen  them,  by  eftablifliing  the  na- 
tural alliance  between  our  duty  and  our  happinefs. 
If  it  be  poflible  for  the  influence  of  fafhion  to  veil  the 
native  deformity  of  vice,  and  to  give  to  low  and 
criminal  indulgences  the  appearance  of  fpirit,  of  ele- 
gance, and  pf  gaiety  ;  can  we  doubt  of  the  poflibility 
of  connecting,  in  the  tender  mind,  thefe  pleafing  aa- 
fociationSy  with  purluits  that  are  truly  worthy  and 
honorable  ? — There  are  few  men  to  be  found,  among 
thgfe  who  have  received  the  advantages  of  a  liberal 
education,  who  do  not  retain,  through  life,  that  ad- 
miration of  the  heroic  ages  of  Greece  nnd  Rome, 
with  v/hich  the  clafllcal  authors  once  infpired  them. 
It  is,  in  truth,  a  fortunate  prcpoflefllon,  on  the  whole, 
and  one,  of  which  1  fliould  be  forry  to  counteracb  the 
influence.  But  are  there  not  others  of  equal  impor- 
tance to  morality  and  to  happinefs,  with  which  the 
mind  might,  at  the  fame  period  of  life,  be  infpired  ? 
If  the  firil  conceptions,  for  example,  which  an  infant 
formed  of  the  Deity,  and  its  flrll  moral  perceptions, 
were  afl(iciated  with  the  early  impreffions  produced 
on  the  heart  by  the  beauties  of  nature,  or  the  charms 
of  poetical  defcription,  thofe  ferious  tlioughts  which 
are  reforted  to,  by  moil  men,  merely  as  a  fource  of 
confolation  in  adverfity  ;  and  which,  on  that  very 
account,  are  frequently  tinctured  with  fome  degree 
of  gloom,  would  recur  fpontaneoufly  to  the  mind, 
in  its  beif  and  happietl  hours  ;  and  would  infenflbly 


4'4  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

blend  themfelves  with  all  its  pureft  and  moft  refined 
enjoyments. 

In  thofe  parts  of  Europe,  where  the  prevailing  opin- 
ions involve  the  greateft  variety  of  errors  and  cor- 
ruptions, it  is,  I  believe,  a  common  idea  wiih  niany 
refpeclable  and  enlightened  men,  that,  in  every  coun- 
try, it  is  moft  prudent  to  coi:ducl  the  religious  in- 
ftrudion  of  youth  up'>n  the  plan  which  is  preicribed 
by  the  national  eftabiifhment  ;  in  order  that  the  pu- 
pil, according  to  the  vigour  or  feeblenefs  of  iiis 
mind,  may  either  Ihake  off,  in  future  life,  the  preju- 
dices of  the  nurfery,  or  die  in  the  popular  perlu.ifion. 
This  idea,  I  own,  appears  to  me  to  be  equally  iii  t(  un- 
ded  and  dangenms.  If  religious  opinions  have,  as 
will  not  be  difputed,  a  powerful  influence  on  the  hap- 
pinefs,  and  on  the  conducl  of  mankind,  does  not  hu- 
manity require  of  us,  to  refcue  as  many  viclin-s  as 
pofli  >le  from  the  hands  of  bigotry  ;  and  to  lave  them 
from  the  cruel  alternative,  of  remaining  under  the 
gloom  of  adeprelling  fuper{tition,or  of  being  oifti  jd:- 
ed  by  a  perpetual  conflict  between  the  heart  and  the 
underftanding  ? — It  is  an  enlightened  education  alone, 
that,  in  moft  countries  of  Europe,  can  fave  the  young 
philofopher  from  that  anxiety  and  defpondence, 
which  every  man  of  fenlibility,  who,  in  his  childhood, 
has  imbibed  the  popular  opinions,  mull  necefl?rily 
experience,  when  he  hrft  begins  to  exan  ine  their 
foundation  ;  and,  what  is  of  itiil  greater  in  pc^rtance, 
which  can  fave  him,  during  life,  from  that  (  ccaiion- 
al  fcepticifm,  to  which  all  men  are  liable,  whofe  Sys- 
tems fluctuate  with  the  inequalities  of  their  ipirits, 
and  the  variations  of  the  atmofphere. 

I  Ihall  conclude  this  fuljecl,  with  remarking,  that, 
although  in  all  moral  and  religious  f)ftems,  there  is 
a  great  mixture  of  important  truth  ;  and  although 
it  is,  in  confequence  of  this  alliance,  that  errors  and 
abfurdities  are  enabled  to  preferve  their  hold  (  f  ^he 
belief,  yet  it  is  commonly  found,  that,  in  propurtioa 


t)F    THE    HUMAN    MIND,  45 

as  an  eflablifhed  creed  is  complicated  in  its  dogmas 
and  in  its  ceremonies,  and  in  proportitn  to  the  num- 
ber of  acceffory  ideas  which  it  has  grafted  upm^  the 
truth,  the  more  difficult  is  it,  for  thofe  who  have 
adopted  it  in  childhood,  to  emancipate  themfclves 
completely  from  its  influence  ;  and,  in  ihofe  caiesin 
which  they  at  laft  fucceed,  the  greater  is  their  dan- 
ger of  abandoning,  along  with  their  errors,  all  the 
truths  which  they  had  been  taught  to  connefl  with 
them.  The  Roman  Catholic  fyftem  is  fhaken  off 
with  much  greater  diffijulty,  than  thofe  which  are 
taught  in  the  reformed  churches ;  but  when  it  lofes 
its  hold  of  the  mind,  it  much  m.ore  frequently  pre- 
pares the  way  for  unlimited  fcepticiim.  Ihecau- 
fes  of  this  I  may  perhaps  have  an  opportunity  ot  plant- 
ing out,  in  treating  of  the  affociation  of  ideas. 

I  have  now  finifhed  all  that  I  think  neceflary  to 
offer,  at  prefeht,  on  the  application  of  the  philofd. 
phy  of  mind  to  the  fubjed:  ot  education.  To  fbme 
readers,  I  am  afraid,  that  what  I  have  advanced  on  the 
fubjecl,  will  appear  to  border  upon  enthu  afn  ;  and 
I  will  not  aitempt  to  juftify  myfelf  againft  the  charge. 
I  am  well  aware  of  the  tendency,  which  fpeculaiive 
men  fometimes  have,  to  magnify  the  cfTecls  of  edu- 
cation, as  well  as  to  entertain  too  fanguine  vie^-  s  of 
the  improvement  of  the  world  ;  and  I  am  ready  to 
acknowledge,  that  there  are  inflances  of  individuals, 
whofe  vigor  of  mind  is  fufficient  to  overcome  every 
thing  that  is  pernicious  in  their  early  habits :  but  I 
am  fully  perfuadcd,  that  thefe  inilances  are  rare  ; 
and  that,  by  far  the  greater  part  of  mankind  con- 
tinue, through  life,  to  purfue  the  fame  track  into 
which  they  have  been  thrown,  by  the  accidental  cir- 
cumflances  of  fituation,  inftrudion,  and  example. 


46  .  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

PART  SECOND. 

SECTION  II. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Subject. 

THE  remarks  which  have  been  hitherto  made,  on 
the  utility  of  the  philofophy  of  the  human  mind, 
are  of  a  very  general  nature,  and  apply  equally  to  all 
defcriptions  of  men.  Befides,  however,  thefe  more 
obvious  advantages  of  the  fludy,  there  are  others, 
which,  though  lefs  ftrikiog,  and  lefs  extenfive  in 
their  application,  are  neverthelefs,  to  fome  particular 
claffes  of  individuals,  of  the  higheft  importance. 
XVirhout  pretending  to  exhauft  the  fubje6l,  T  Ihall 
off-r  a  few  detached  obfervaiions  upon  it,  in  this 
feclion. 

I  already  took  notice,  in  general  terms,  of  the 
common  relation  which  all  the  different  branches  of 
our  knowledge  bear  to  the  philofophy  of  the  human 
mind.  In  confequence  of  this  relation,  it  not  only- 
forms  an  iiiterefting  object  of  curiofity  to  literary 
men  of  every  denomination  ;  but,  if  fuccefsfuliy  prof- 
ecuted,  it  cannot  fail  to  furnifli  uleiul  lights  for  di- 
recling  their  inquiries  ;  whatever  the  nature  of  the 
fubje(Ss  may  be,  which  happen  to  engage  their  at- 
tention. 

In  order  to  be  fatisfied  of  the  juftnefs  of  this  ob- 
fervation,  it  is  fufBcient  to  recollect,  that  to  the  phi. 
lofophy  of  the  mind  are  to  be  referred,  all  our  in- 
quiries concerning  the  divifions  and  the  claiTifica- 
tions  of  the  objects  of  human  knowledge  ;  and  alfo, 
all  the  various  rules,  both  for.the  invelligation,and 
the  communication,  of  truth.  Thefe  general  views 
of  fciepce,  and  thefe  general  rules  of  method,  ought 
to  form  the  fubjeds  of  a  rational  and  ufeful  logic  ;  a 
ftudy,  undoubtedly,  in  itfelf  of  the  greatefl  impor- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  4? 

tance  and  dignity,  but  in  which  lefs  progrefs  has 
hitherto  been  made  than  is  commonly  imagined. 

I  fliall  endeavor  to  illuftrate,  very  briefly,  a  few 
of  the  advantages  which  might  be  expected  to  re- 
fult  from  fuch  a  fyflem  of  logic,  if  properly  execu- 
ted. 

I.  And,  in  the  firft  place,  it  is  evident  that  it  would 
be  of  the  higheft  importance  in  all  the  fciences,  (in 
fome  of  them,  indeed,  much  more  than  in  others,) 
to  exhibit  a  precife   and  fceady  idea  of  the  objects 
which  they  prefent  to  our  enquiry. — What  was  the 
principal  circumftance  which  contributed  to  miflead 
the  ancients,  in  their  phylical  refearches  ?  Was  it  not 
their  confufed  and  wavering  notions  about  the  par- 
ticular clafs  of  truths,  which  it  was  their  bufinefs  to 
inveftigate  .?    It  was  owing  to  this,  that  they  were 
led  to   neglect  the  obvious  phenomena  and  laws  of 
moving  bodies  ;  and  to  indulge  themfelves  it  con- 
jedures  about  the  efficient  caufes  of  motion,  and  the 
nature  of  thofe  minds,  by  which  they  conceived  the 
particles  of  matter  to  be  animated  ;    and  that  they 
lb  often  blended  the  hiftory  of  facts,  with  their  met* 
aphyfical  fpeculations.     In  the  prefent  flate  of  fci- 
ence,  indeed,  we  are  not  liable  to  fuch  roiftakes  in 
natural   philofophy  ;    but   it  would  be  difficult  to 
mention  any  other  branch  of  knowledge,  which  is 
entirely  exempted   from    them.     In  metaphyfics,  I 
might  almoft  fay,  they  are  at  the  bottom  of  ali^ur 
controverlies.     In  the  celebrated  difpute,  for  exam- 
ple, which  has  been  lo  long  carried   on,  abcmt  the 
explanation  given  by  the  ideal  theory  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  perception,   the   wiiole   difficulty   arofe 
from  this,  that  philofophers  had  noprecite  notion  of 
he  point  they  wifhed  to  afcertain  ;    and  now  that 
the  controverfy   has  been  brought  to  a  conciufion, 
(as  I  think  all   men  of  candour   muil:  confefs  it  to 
have  been  by  Dr.  Reid)   it  will  be  found,   that  his 
doctrine  on  the  fubjed  throws  no   light  whatever, 


48  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

on  what  was  generally  underflood  to  be  the  great 
objedl  of  inquiry  ;  I  mean,  on  the  mode  of  commu- 
nication between  the  mind  and  the  material  world  : 
and,  in  truth,  amounts  only  to  a  precife  defer iption 
of  the  facl,  (tripped  of  all  hypothefis,  and  dated  iu 
fuch  a  manner  as  to  give  us  a  diftincl  view  of  the 
infurmountable  limits  which  nature  has  in  this  in- 
ftance  prefcribed  to  our  curiofity.  The  fame  obfer- 
vation  may  be  made,  on  the  reaonings  of  this  pro- 
found and  original  author,  with  refped  to  fome 
metaphyfical  queilions  that  had  been  ftarted  on  the 
fubjecl  of  vifion  ;  in  particular,  concerning  the  caufe 
of  our  feeing  objects  fmgle  with  two  eyes,  and  our 
feeing  objed:s  erecl,  by  means  of  inverted  images  on 
the  letina. 

If  we  were  to  examine,  in  like  manner,  the  prefent 
flate  of  morals,  of  jurifprudence,  of  politics,  and  of 
philofophical  criticifm  ;  I  believe,  we  Ihould  find, 
that  the  principal  circumftance  which  retards  their 
progrefs,  is  the  vague  and  indiflincl  idea,  which 
thoie  who  apply  to  the  ftudy  of  them  have  formed 
to  themfelves  of  the  objects  of  their  refearches. 
Were  thefe  objects  once  clearly  defined,  and  the 
proper  plan  of  inquiry  for  attaining  them  illuftrated 
by  a  few  unexceptionable  models,  writers  of  inferior 
genius  would  be  enabled  to  employ  their  induflry 
to  much  more  advantage  ;  and  would  be  prevented 
from  adding  to  that  rubbiih,  which,  in  conlequence 
of  the  ill-directed  ingenuity  of  our  predecefTors,  ob- 
ftructs  our  progrefs  in  the  purfuit  of  truth. 

As  a  philofophical  fyftem  of  logic  would  aflift  us 
in  our  particular  fcUntific  inveftigations,  by  keeping 
lleadily  in  our  view  the  attainable  objects  of  human 
curiofity  ;  fo,  by  exhibiting  to  us  the  relation  in 
which  they  ail  ftand  to  each  other,  and  the  relation 
which  they  all  bear  to  what  ought  to  be  their  com^ 
liion  aim,  the  advancement  of  human  happinefs,  it 
would  have  a  tendency  to  confine  induilry  and  gen- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MlND.  49 

ius  to  inquiries  which  are  of  real  practical  utility  ; 
and  would  communicate  a  dignity  to  the  moft  fub- 
ordinate  purfuits,  which  are  in  any  refped  fubfervi- 
ent  to  fo  important  a  purpofe.  When  our  views 
are  limited  to  one  particular  (cience,  to  which  we 
have  been  led  to  devote  ourfelves  by  tafte  or  by  ac- 
cident, the  courfe  of  our  ftudies  refembles  the  prog- 
refs  of  a  traveller  through  an  unknown  country  ; 
whofe  wanderings,  from  place  to  place,  are  deter- 
mined merely  by  the  impuife  of  occalional  curiofity  ; 
and  whofe  opportunities  of  information  muft  necef- 
farily  be  limited  to  the  objects  which  accidentally 
prefent  themfelves  to  his  notice.  It  is  the  philofo- 
phy  of  the  mind  alone,  which,  by  furnifhing  us  with 
a  general  map  of  the  field  of  human  knowledge,  can 
enable  us  to  proceed  with  fteadinefs,  and  in  an  ufo- 
ful  direction  ;  and  while  it  gratifies  our  curiofity, 
and  animates  our  exertions,  by  exhibiting  to  us  all 
the  various  bearings  of  our  journey,  can  condud  us 
to  thofe  eminences  from  whence  the  eye  may  wan- 
der over  the  vaft  and  unexplored  regions  of  fcience. 
Lord  Bacon  was  the  firft  perfon  who  took  this  com- 
prehenfive  view  of  the  different  departments  of  flu- 
dy  ;  and  who  pointed  out,  to  all  the  clafles  of  litera- 
ry men,  the  great  end  to  which  their  labors  fliould 
confpire  ;  the  multiplication  of  the  fources  of  human 
enjoyment,  and  the  extenfion  of  man's  dominion 
over  nature.  Had  this  objed  been  kept  fteadily  in 
view  by  his  followers,  their  difcoveries,  numerous 
and  important  as  they  have  been,  would  have  ad- 
vanced with  ftill  greater  rapidity,  and  would  have 
had  a  much  more  extenfive  influence  oi?  the  practic- 
al arts  of  life.* 

*  Omnium  autem  gravissimns  error  in  deviatione  ab  ultimo  doc- 
trinarum  fine  consistit.  nppetunt  enim  homines  scientiara,  alii 
ex  insita  curiositate  et  irrequieta ;  alii  animi  causa  et  delectationis, 
alii  existimationis  gratia  :  alii  contentionis  ergo,  atque  ut  in  disser- 
endo  superiorcs  sint :  plerique  propter  lucrum  et  victum;  paocis»i- 

G 


so  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

From  fuch  a  fyftem  of  logic,  too,  important  aflift> 
ance  might  be  expected,  for  reforming  the  eftablifbi- 
ed  plan  of  public  or  academical  education.  It  is 
melancholy  to  refled:  on  the  manner  in  which  this 
is  carried  on,  in  moll,  perhaps,  I  might  {:\y,  in  all  the 
countries  of  Europe  ;  and  that  in  an  age  of  compar- 
ative light  and  liberality,  the  intelledual  and  moral 
chara^ers  of  youth  fhould  continue  to  be  formed  on 
a  plan  devifed  by  men,  who  were  not  only  Rrangers 
to  the  buiinefs  of  the  world,  but  who  felt  themfeives 
interefted  in  oppofmg  the  progrefs  of  ufeful  knowl- 
edge. 

For  accomplifhlng  a  reformation  in  the  plan  of  ac- 
ademical ftudy,  on  rational  and  fyftematical  princi- 
ples, it  is  neceffary,  in  the  firfl  place,  to  conlider  the 
velation  in  which  the  different  branches  of  literature, 
and  the  different  arts  and  fciences,  {land  to  each  oth- 
er, and  to  the  practical  purpofes  of  life  :  and  fecond- 
ly  to  conlider  them  in  relation  to  the  human  mind, 
in  order  to  determine  the  arrangement,  bell  fitted 
for  unfolding  and  maturing  its  faculties.  Many  val- 
uable hints  towards  fuch  a  work  may  be  collected 
from  Lord  Bacon*s  writings, 

II.  Another  very  important  branch  of  a  rational 
fyllem  of  logic  (as  I  had  occafion  already  to  obferve) 
ought  to  be  ;  to  lay  down  the  rules  of  invelligation 
which  it  is  proper  to  follow  in  the  different  fciences. 
In  all  of  thefe,  the  faculties  of  the  underflanding  are 
the  inftruments  with  which  v/c  operate ;  and  with- 
out a  previous  knowledge  of  their  nature,  it  is  im- 
pollible  to  employ  them  to  the  bell  advantage.  In 
every  exercife  of  our  reafoning  and  of  our  inven- 
tive powers,  there  are  general  laws  which  regulate 
the  progrefs  of  the  mind  ;  and  when  once  thefe  laws 

xni,  ot  donuna-  rationis,  divinitus  datura,  in  usus  hiimani  generis  im- 

pendant. Hoc  enira  illud  est, quod  reveradootrinamatqueartes 

oondecorarct,  et  attolleret,  si  cotitemplatio,  et  actio,  arctiore  quan* 
adbuc  vinculo  copularewtur.     De  Aug.  Scient.  lib.  i. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  IvllND,  51 

are  afcertained,  they  enable  us  to  fpeculate  and  to 
invent,  for  the  future,  with  more  fyftem,  and  with 
a  greater  certainty  of  fu'-cefs. — ^In  the  mechanical 
arts,  it  is  well  known,  how  much  lime  and  ingenui- 
ty are  mifapplied,  by  thofe  w^ho» acquire  their  prac- 
tical fldli,  by  their  own  trials,  undire&d  by  the  pre- 
cepts or  example  of  others.  What  we  call  the  rules  of 
an  art,  are  merely  a  coUedHon  of  general  obferva- 
tions,  fuggelled  by  long  experience,  with  refpcd:  to 
the  moft  compendious  and  eiFcdual  means  of  perfor- 
ming every  diiFerent  ilep  of  the  procefTes  which  the 
art  involves.  In  confequence  of  fuch  rules,  the  ar- 
tift  is  enabled  to  command  the  fame  fuccefs  in  all  his 
operations,  for  which  the  unlkilied  w^orkman  mufl 
truft  to  a  happy  <:ombination  of  accidental  circum- 
ftances  ;  the  mifapplications,  too,  of  the  labor  of  one 
race  are  faved  to  the  next ;  and  the  acquifition  of 
pra<5tical  addrefs  is  facilitated,  by  confining  its  exer- 
tion to  one  direction. The  analogy  is  perfect,  in 

thofe  procefles  which  are  purely  inteiiefluai ;  ard  to 
regulate  which,  is  the  great  object  of  logic.  In  the 
cafe  of  individuals,  who  have  no  other  guide  to  di- 
rect them  in  their  inquiries  than  their  own  natural 
fagacity,  much  time  and  ingenuity  muil  inevitably 
be  thrown  away,  in  every  exertion  of  the  inventive 
powers.  In  proportion,  however,  to  the  degree  of 
their  experience  and  obfervation,  the  number  of 
thefe  mifapplications  will  diminifli ;  and  the  power 
of  invention  will  be  enabled  to  proceed  with  more 
certainty  aiid  fteadinefs  to  its  object.  The  misfor- 
tune is,  that  as  the  aids  which  the  underilanding  de- 
rives irom  experience,  are  feldom  recorded  in  wri- 
ting, or  even  defcribed  in  words,  every  fucccedirg 
inquirer  finds  himfclf,  at  the  commencement  of  his 
philofophical  purfutts,  obliged  to  ftruggle  with  the 
i'ame  difadvantages  which  had  retarded  the  progrefs 
of  his  predeceflbrs.  If  the  more  important  praciic- 
.dl  rules,  which  habits  of  invefiigation  fuggelt  to  ixir 


52  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

dividuals,  were  diligently  preferved,  each  generation 
would  be  placed  in  circumftances  more  favorable 
to  invention  than  the  preceding ;  and  the  progrefs 
of  knowledge,  inftead  of  cramping  original  geiiius, 
would  affifl.  and  direct  its  exertions.  In  the  infancy 
of  literature,  indeed,  its  range  may  be  more  un- 
bounded, and  its  accidental  excuriions  may  excite 
more  aftonilhment,  than  in  a  cultivated  and  enlight- 
ened  age  ;  but  it  is  only  in  fuch  an  age,  that  inven- 
tive genius  can  be  trained  by  rules  founded  on  the 
experience  of  our  predeceflbrs,  in  fuch  a  manner  as 
to  infure  the  gradual  and  regular  improvement  of 
fcience.  So  juft  is  the  remark  of  Lord  Bacon  ; 
'^  Certo  fciant  homines,  artes  inveniendi  folidas  et 
"  veras  adolefcere  et  incrementa  fumere  cum  ipfis 
•^'  inventis," 

The  analogy  between  the  mechanical  arts,  and  the 
operations  of  fcientific  invention,  might  perhaps  be 
carried  further.  In  the  former,  we  know  how 
much  the  natural  powers  of  man  have  been  allilied, 
by  the  ufe  of  tools  and  inflruments.  Is  it  not  pofli- 
ble  to  devife,  in  like  manner,  certain  aids  to  our  in- 
telledual  faculties  ? 

I'hat  fuch  a  query  is  not  altogether  chimerical,  ap- 
pears from  the  wonderful  efFe6ls  of  algebra  (which  is 
precifely  fuch  aninftrument  of  thought,  as  I  have  been 
now  alluding  to)  in  facilitating  the  inquiries  of  mod- 
ern mathematicians.  Whether  it  might  not  be  pof- 
fible  to  realife  a  projecl  which  Leibnitz  has  fome- 
wherc  mentioned,  of  introducing  a  fimilar  contri- 
vance into  other  branches  of  knowledge,  I  fliall  not 
take  upon  me  to  determine  ;  but  that  this  idea  has  at 
leati  feme  plaulibility,  mull,  1  think,  be  evident  to 
thofe  who  have  relieved  on  the  nature  of  the  general 
terms  vthich  abound  more  or  lefs  in  every  cultivated 
language;  and  which  may  be  confidered  as  one  fpecies 
of  inftrumental  aid,  which  art  has  difcovered  to  our 
intelledual  powers.     From  the  obfervations  wbich  I 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND. 


am  afterwards  to  make,  it  will  appear,  that,  without 
general  terms,  all  our  reaibnings  niuft  neceffarily 
have  been  limited  to  particulars  ;  and,  confequently, 
it  is  owing  to  the  ufe  of  thefe,  that  the  philofopher 
is  enabled  to  fpeculate  concerning  clalTes  of  objects, 
with  the  fame  faciUty  with  which  the  lavage  or  the 
peafant  fpeculates  concerning  the  individuals  of 
which  they  are  compofed.  The  technical  terms,  in 
the  different  fciences,  render  the  appropriated  lan- 
guage of  philofophy  a  (till  more  convenient  inftru- 
ment  of  thought,  than  thofe  languages  which  have 
originated  from  popular  ufe  ;  and  in  proportion  as 
thefe  technical  terms  improve  in  pomt  of  preciiion 
and  comprehenlivenefs,  they  will  contribute  to  ren- 
der our  intellectual  progrefs  more  certain  and  more 
rapid.  "  While  engaged"  (fays  Mr.  Lavoilier)  "  in 
"  the  compofition  of  my  elements  of  Chemiftry,  I 
"  perceived,  better  than  I  had  ever  done  before,  the 
"  truth  of  an  obfervation  of  Condillac,  that  we  think 
"  only  through  the  medium  of  words  ;  and  that  lan- 
"  guages  are  true  analytical  methods.  Algebra, 
"  which,  of  all  our  modes  af  exprefTion,  is  the  moft 
"  fniiple,  the  moft  exact,  and  the  beft  adapted  to  its 
"  purpofe,  is,  at  the  fame  time,  a  language  and  an 
"  analytical  method.  The  art  of  reafoiiing  is  noth- 
"  ing  more  than  a  language  well  arranged."  'Ihe 
influence  which  thefe  very  enlightened  and  philo- 
fophical  views  have  already  had  on  the  doctrines  of 
chemiftry,  cannot  fail  to  be  known  to  moft  of  my 
readers. 

The  foregoing  remarks,  in  fo  far  as  they  relate  to 
the  pofQbility  of  affifting  our  reafoning  and  inven- 
tive  powers,  by  new  inftrumentalaids,  may  perhaps 
appear  to  be  founded  too  much  upon  theory  ;  but 
this  objection  cannot  be  made  to  the  reafonings  I 
have  offered  on  the  importance  of  the  fludy  of  meth- 
od.— To  the  juftnefs  of  thefe,  the  whole  hiftory  of 
fcience  bears  teftimony  j    but  more  efpecially,  the 


54  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

hiftories  of  Phyfics  and  of  pure  Geometry  ;  which 
afFord  fo  remarkable  an  illuftration  of  the  general 
doctrine,  as  can  fcarcely  fail  to  he  fluisfa^lory,  even 
to  thofe  who  are  the  moft  difpofed  to  doubt  the  ef- 
ficacy of  art  in  directing  the  exertions  of  genius. 

With  refpecl  to  the  former,  it  is  (ufiicient  to  men- 
tion the  wonderful  effeds  which  the  writings  of 
Lord  Bacon  have  produced,  in  accelerating  its  pro- 
grefs,  The  philofophers,  who  ilourilhed  before  his 
time,  were,  undoubtedly,  not  inferior  to  their  luc- 
cefTors,  either  in  genius  or  induftry  :  but  their  plan 
of  inveftigation  was  erroneous  ;  and  their  labours 
Iiave  produced  only  a  chaos  of  fictions  and  abfurdi- 
ties.  The  illullrations  which  his  works  contain,  of 
the  method  of  induction,  general  as  the  terms  are, 
in  which  they  are  exprelTed,  have  gradually  turned 
the  attention  of  the  moderns'to  the  rules  of  philofo- 
phifmg ;  and  have  led  the  way  to  thofe  important 
and  fublime  difcoveries  in  phylics,  which  reflect  fo 
much  honour  on  the  prefent  age. 

The  rules  of  philofophifing,  however,  even  in 
phyfics,  have  never  yet  been  laid  down  with  a  fuf- 
ficient  degree  of  precifion,  minutenefs,  or  method  ; 
Kor  have  they  ever  been  ftated  and  illuftrated  in  fo 
clear  and  popular  a  manner,  as  to  render  them  intel- 
Mgible  to  the  generality  of  readers.  The  truth,  per- 
haps, is  ;  that  the  greater  part  of  phyfical  inquirers 
have  derived  what  knowledge  of  them  they  poiiefs, 
rather  from  an  attention  to  the  excellent  models  of 
inveftigation,  which  the  writings  of  Newton  exhibit, 
than  from  any  of  the  fpeculations  of  lord  Bacon,  or 
his  commentators  :  and,  indeed,  fuch  is  the  incapa- 
city of  moft  people  for  abftract  reafoning,  that  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  even  if  the  rules  of  inquiry  were 
delivered  in  a  perfectly  complete  and  unexceptiona- 
ble form,  it  might  ftill  be  expedient  to  teach  them  to 
the  majority  of  ftudents,  rather  by  examples,  than 
in  the  form  of  general  principles.     But  it  does  not     ■ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  JJ 

therefore  follow,  that  an  attempt  to  illuftrate  and  to 
methodize  thefe  rules,  would  be  uielefs  ;  for  it  mufl 
be  remembered,  that,  although  an  original  and  in- 
ventive genius,  like  that  of  Newton,  be  fufficient  to 
eftablifli  a  ftandard  for  the  imitation  of  his  age,  yet, 
that  the  genius  of  Newton  himfelf  was  encouraged 
and  led  by  the  light  of  Bacon's  philofophy. 

The  ufe  which  the  ancient  Greek  geometers  made 
of  their  analyfis^  affords  an  additional  illuftration  of 
the  utility  of  method  in  guiding  fcientific  invention. 
To  facilitate  the  ftudy  of  this  fpecies  of  inveftigation, 
they  wrote  no  lefs  than  thirty-three  preparatory 
book  ;  and  they  confidered  an  addrefs,  in  the  praclice 
of  it,  (or,asMarinus  calls  it  a  ot^va/^/j  av«Ayr/>t*3)  as  of  much 
more  value,  than  an  extenfive  acquaintance  with  the 
principles  of  the  fcience.*  Indeed,  it  is  well  known, 
to  every  one  who  is  at  all  converfant  with  geome- 
trical inveftigations,  that  although  it  may  be  poffible 
for  a  perfon,  without  the  affiftance  of  the  method  of 
analyfis,  to  ftumble  accidentally  on  a  folution,  or  on 
a  demonftration  ;  yet  it  is  impoilible  for  him  to  pof- 
fefs  a  juft  confidence  in  his  own  powers,  or  to  carry- 
on  a  regular  plan  of  invention  and  difcovery.  It  is 
well  known,  too,  that  an  acquaintance  with  this  me- 
thod brings  geometers  much  more  nearly  upon  a 
level  with  each  other,  than  they  would  be  other  wife  : 
not  that  it  is  poffible,  by  any  rules,  to  fupercede,  en- 
tirely, ingenuity  and  addrefs  ;  but,  becaufe,  in  con- 
fequence  of  the  uniformity  of  the  plan  on  which  the 
method  proceeds,  experience  communicates  a  cer- 
tain dexterity  in  the  ufe  of  it ;  which  muft  in  time 
gi*re  to  a  very  ordinary  degree  of  fagacity,  a  fuperi- 
ority,  on  the  whole,  to  the  greateft  natural  ingenui- 
ty, unaffilled  by  rule.f 

*  MsiC«v  fr'  T«  Jtvaja/v  a-ixhwi-Kr,*  liTnaxaOxii   rov  TtcXXx';  a<7rodsi^Ei.; 
Ten  ttrt  fcspovi  e%£'v. 

t  "  Mathematica  molti  sciunt,  mathesin  pauci.     Aliud  est  enim 
nosse  propobitiones  aliquot,  et  nonnullas  ex  iis  obvias  elicere,  casu 


5Q  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

To  thefe  obfervations,  I  believe,  I  may  add,  that, 
.after  all  that  was  done  by  the  Greek  philofophers  to 
facilitate  mathematical  invention,  many  rules  ftil)  re- 
main to  be  fugj>efted,  which  m.ight  be  of  important 
ule,  even  in  pure  geometry.  A  variety  of  fuch  oc- 
cur to  every  experienced  mathematician,  in  the 
courfe  of  his  inquiries,  although,  perhaps,  he  may 
not  be  at  the  trouble  to  ftate  them  to  himfeif  in 
words ;  and  it  would  plainly  have  faved  him  much 
expence  of  time  and  thought,  befide  enabling  him 
to  condud  his  refearches  on  a  more  regular  plan,  if 
he  had  been  taught  them  fyftematically  at  the  com- 
mencement of  his  ftudies.  The  more  varied,  abftrufe, 
and  general  inveftigations  of  the  moderns,  ftand  in 
need,  in  a  much  greater  degree,  of  the  guidance  of 
philofophical  principles  ;  not  only  for  enabling  us  to 
condud:,  with  fkill,  our  particular  refearches,  but  for 
directing  us  to  the  different  methods  of  reafoning,  to 
which  we  ought  to  have  recourfe  on  different  occa- 
fions.  A  coUedion  of  fuch  rules  would  form,  what 
might  be  called  with  propriety,  the  logic  of  mathe- 
matics ;  and  would  probably  conrtibute  greatly  to  the 
advancement  of  all  thofe  branches  of  knowledge,  to 
which  mathematical  learning  is  fubfervient. 

The  obfervations  which  have  been  now  made,  on 
the  importance  of  method  in  conducting  phyfical  and 
mathematical  refearches,  particularly  thofe  which  re- 

polios  quam  certa  aliqua  discurrendi  norma,  alind  scientla?  ipsius 
jnaturam  nc  iiidolem  perspectam  habere,  in  ejus  se  adyta  penetrare, 
ot  ab  universaiibns  instructum  essepr^eceptis,  quibustheoremata  ac 
probleitiata  innumera  excogitandi,eademqnedenaon£trandi  faci'ilas 
comparetur.  Ut  enim  pictorum  vulgu-;  prototypon  s?epe  sappius 
f^xprimendo,  quendam  pingendi  usunn,  riuilam  vero  pictoriae  artis 
quam  optica  suggorit,,  scientiara  adquirii,  ita  multi,  lectis  Euclidis 
et  alionim  geometrarum  libris,  eorura  imitatione  fingere  proposi- 
tiones  aliquas  ac  demons+rare  sclent,  ipsaai  tainen  secrelissimain  dif- 
ficiliorumtheorematorn  ac  problemat um  solvendimethodnmprorsus 
ignorant." — J  mnuis  de  !a  Fadle  Tlieoremata  de  Centro  Gravitatis, 
in  praE?fat, — Antwerpla?,  1G33* 


OF  THE  HtJMAN  MIND.  57 

iate  to  the  lafl  of  thefe  fubjecls,  will  not  apply  lite- 
rally to  our  inquiries  in  metaphyfics,  morals,  or 
politics  ;  becaufe,  in  thefe  fciences,  our  reafonings 
always  confift  of  a  comparatively  fmall  number  of 
intermediate  Heps  ;  and  the  obftacles  which  retard 
our  progrefs,  do  not,  as  in  mathematics,  arife  from 
the  difficulty  of  finding  media  of  comparifon  among 
our  ideas.  Not,  that  thefe  obftacles  are  lefs  real,  or 
more  eafily  furmounted  :  on  the  contrary,  it  feems 
to  require  a  ftill  rarer  combination  of  talents  to  fur- 
mount  them  ;  for  how  fmall  is  the  number  of  indi- 
viduals, who  are  qualified  to  think  juftly  on  meta- 
phyfical,  moral,  or  political  fubjecis  ;  in  comparifon 
of  thofe,  who  may  be  trained  by  practice  to  follow 
the  longeft  procefl'es  of  mathematical  reafoning. 
From  what  thefe  obftacles  arife,  I  ftiall  not  inquire 
particularly  at  prefent.  Some  of  the  more  impor- 
tant of  them  may  be  referred  to  the  imperfedions 
of  language  ;  to  the  difficulty  of  annexing  prepfe 
and  fteady  ideas  to  our  words  ;  to  the  difficulty,  in 
fome  cafes,  of  conceiving  the  fubje^ts  of  our  reafon- 
ing ;  and,  in  others,  of  difcovering,  and  keeping  in 
view,  all  the  various  circumftances  upon  which  our 
judgment  ought  to  proceed  ;  and  above  all,  to  the 
prejudices  which  early  imprefiions  and  aflliciations 
create,  to  warp  our  opinions. — To  illuftrate  thefe 
fources  of  error,  in  the  different  fciences  which  are 
liable  to  be  affedled  by  them,  and  to  point  out  the 
moft  effedlual  means  for  guarding  againft  them, 
would  form  another  very  interefting  article,  in  a 
philofophical  fyftem  of  logic. 

The  method  of  communicating  to  others,  the 
principles  of  the  different  fciences,  has  been  as  much 
negle^ed  by  the  writers  on  logic,  as  the  rule  of  in- 
veftigation  and  difcovery  ;  and  yet,  there  is  certain- 
ly no  undertaking  whatever,  in  which  their  affiftance 
is  more  indifpenfibly  requifite.  The  firft  principles 
of  all  the  fciences  are  intimately  connected  with  the 
H 


S8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

pliilofaphy  of  the  human  mind  ;  and  it  is  the  proi' 
vince  of  the  logician,  to  (late  thefe  in  fuch  a  manner, 
as  to  lay  a  folid  foundation  for  the  fuperftructures- 
which  others  are  to  rear. — It  is  in  ftating  fuch  prin- 
ciples, accordingly,  that  elementary  writers  are  chief- 
ly apt  to  fail.  How  unfatisfaclory,  for  example,  are 
the  introductory  chapters  in  moil  fyftems  of  natural 
philofophy  ;  not  in  confequence  of  any  defe<^  of 
phyfical  or  of  mathematical  knowledge  in  their 
authors,  but  in  confequence  of  a  want  of  attention 
to  the  laws  of  human  thought,  and  to  the  general 
rules  of  juft  reafoning  !  The  fame  remark  may  be 
extended  to  the  form,  in  which  the  elementary 
principles  of  many  of  the  other  fciences  are  com- 
monly exhibited  ;  and,  if  I  am  not  miftaken,  this 
want  of  order,  among  the  firft  ideas  which  they 
prefent  to  the  mind,  is  a  more  powerful  obftacle 
to  the  progrefs  of  knowledge,  than  is  generally  im- 
agined. 

I  fliall  only  obferve  farther,  with  refped  to  the 
utility  of  the  philofophy  of  mind,  that  as  there  are 
fome  arts,  in  which  we  not  only  employ  the  intellec- 
tual faculties  as  inttruments,   but   operate  on  the 
mind  as  a  fubjedl  ;    fo,   to   thofe  individuals  who 
aim  at   excellence   in  fuch  purfuits,  the  ftudies  I 
have  now  been  recommending  are,  in  a  more  pecul- 
iar manner,  interefting  and  important.     In  poetry, 
in  painting,  in  eloquence,  and  in  all  the  other  fine 
arts,  our  fuccefs  depends  on  the  fkill  with  which  we 
are  able  to  adapt  the  efforts  of  our  genius  to  the 
human  frame  ;  and  it  is  only  on  a  phylofophical 
analyfis  of  the  mind^  that  a  folid  foundation  can  be 
laid  for  their  farther  improvement.    Man,  too,  is  the 
fubjedl  on  which  the  practical  moralill  and  the  en- 
lightened ftatesman  have  to  operate.    Of  the  former, 
it  is  the  profeiTed  object  to  engage  the  attention  of 
individuals  to  their  own  bed  interefis  ;  and  to  allure 
them  to  virtue  and  happinefs,  by  every  confidera- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  3^ 

tion  that  can  influence  the  underftanding,  the  imag- 
ination, or  the  heart.  To  the  latter,  is  afligned  the 
fublimer  office  of  fecoriding  the  benevolent  inten- 
tions of  Providence  in  the  adminiftration  of  humaa 
affairs  ;  to  difFufe  as  widely  and  equally  as  poffible, 
among  his  fellow  citizens,  the  advantages  of  the  fe- 
cial union  ;  and,  by  a  careful  ftudy  of  the  conftitu- 
ti'jn  of  man,  and  of  the  circumllances  in  which  he  is 
placed,  to  modify  the  political  order,  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner as  may  allow  free  fcope  and  operation  to  thofe 
principles  of  intellectual  and  moral  improvement, 
which  nature  has  implanted  in  our  fpecies. 

In  all  thefe  cafes,  I  -am  very  fenfible,  that  the  util- 
ity of  fyftematical  rules  has  been  called  in  queftion 
by  philofophers  of  note  ;  and  that  many  plaufible 
arguments  in  fupport  of  their  opinion,  may  be  de- 
rived from  the  fmall  number  of  individuals  who 
have  been  regularly  trained  to  eminence  in  the  arts, 
in  comparifon  of  thofe  who  have  been  guided  mere- 
ly by  untutored  genius,  and  the  example  of  their 
predeceflbrs.  I  know,  too,  that  it  may  be  urged 
with  truth,  that  rules  have,  in  fome  cafes,  done  more 
harm  than  good  ;  and  have  milled,  inilead  of  di- 
recling,  the  natural  exertions  of  the  mind*  But,  in 
all  fuch  inftances,  in  which  philofpphical  principles 
have  failed  in  producing  their  intended  effed,  I  will 
venture  to  alTert,  that  they  have  done  fo,  either  in 
conlequence  of  errors,  which  were  accidentally  blen- 
ded with  them  ;  or,  in  confequence  of  their  poflesr 
fing  only  that  flight  and  partial  influence  over  the 
genius,  which  enabled  them  to  derange  its  previous.- 
ly  acquired  habits ;  without  regulating  its  operations, 
upon  a  fyftematical  plan,  with  lleadinefs  and  eflicacy. 
In  all  the  arts  of  life,  whether  trifling  or  important, 
there  is  a  certain  degree  of  Ikili,  which  may  be  at- 
tained by  our  untutored  powers,  aided  by  imitation  ; 
and  this  flsiill,  inftead  of  being  perfected  by  rules, 
may,  by  means  of  them,  be  diminilhcd  or  deflroyed. 


60  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

if  thefe  rules  are  partially  and  imperfeclly  appre- 
hended ;  or  even  if  they  are  not  fo  familiarized  to 
the  underftanding,  as  to  influence  its  exertions  uni- 
formly and  habitually.  In  the  cale  of  a  mufical  per- 
former, who  has  learned  his  art  merely  by  the  ear, 
tl'e  firft  effects  of  fyftematical  inftru<5l".on  are,  I  be- 
lieve, always  unfavourable.  The  effecl  is  the  fame, 
of  the  rules  of  elocution,  when  firfl  communicated 
to  one  who  has  attained,  by  his  natural  tafte  and 
good  fenfe,  a  tolerable  propriety  in  the  art  of  reading. 
But  it  does  not  follow  from  this,  that,  in  either  of 
thefe  arts,  rules  are  ufelefs.  It  only  follows,  that,  in 
order  to  unite  eafe  and  grace  with  corrednefs,  and 
to  preferve  the  felicities  of  original  genius,  amidft 
thofe  reftraints  which  may  give  them  an  ufeful  di- 
rection, it  is  neceffary  that  the  acquifltions  of  educa- 
tion fliould,  by  long  and  early  habits,  be  rendered, 
in  fome  meafure,  a  fecond  nature.— The  fame  obfer- 
vations  will  be  found  to  apply,  with  very  flight  alter- 
ations, to  arts  of  more  ferious  importance. — In  the 
art  of  legiflation,  for  example,  there  is  a  certain  de- 
gree of  fkill,  which  may  be  acquired  merely  from 
the  routine  of  bulinefs  ;  and  when  once  a  poUtician 
has  been  formed,  in  this  manner,  among  the  details 
of  office,  a  partial  ftudy  of  general  principles,  will  be 
much  more  Hkely  to  lead  him  aflray,  than  to  en- 
lighten his  Gonducl.  But  there  is  neverthelefs  a 
fcience  of  legiflation,  which  the  details  of  office,  and 
the  intrigues  of  popular  affemblies,  will  never  com- 
municate ;  a  fcience,  of  which  the  principles  muff:  be 
fought  for  in  the  conftitution  of  human  nature,  and 
in  the  general  laws  which  regulate  the  courfe  of  hu- 
man affairs  ;  and  which,  if  ever,  in  confequence  of 
the  progrefs  of  reafon,  philofophy  fliould  be  enabled 
to  affunie  that  afcendant  in  the  government  of  the 
world,  which  has  hitherto  been  maintained  by  acci- 
dent, combined  with  the  paffions  and  caprices  of  a 
few  leading  individuals,  may, perhaps,  produce  more 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  61 

perfed  and  happy  forms  of  fociety,  than  have  yet 
been  realized  in  the  hiftory  of  mankind. 

I  have  thus  endeavored  to  point  out,  and  illuftrate, 
a  few  of  the  moft  important  purpofes  to  which  the 
philofophy  of  the  human  n\ind  is  fubfervient.     It 
will  not,  however,  I  flatter  myfelf,  be  fuppofed  by 
any  of  my  readers,  that  I  mean  to  attempt  a  fyftem- 
atical  work,  on  all,  or  any  of  the  fubjefls  I  have  now 
mentioned;  the  moft  limited  of  which,  would  fur- 
nifh  matter  for  many  volumes.     What  I  have  aim- 
ed at,  has  been,  to  give,  in  the  firft  place,  as  diftin<5l 
and  complete  an  analyfis  as  I  could,  of  the  principles, 
both  intelledual  and  adive,  of  our  nature  ;  and,  in 
the  fecond  place,  to  illuftrate,  as  I  proceed,  the  appli- 
cation of  thefe  general  laws  of  the  human  conftitu- 
tion,  to  the  uifFerent  clafles  of  phenomena  which  re- 
fult  from  them.     In  the  feleclion  of  thefe  phenom- 
ena, although  I  have  fometimes  been  guided  chiefly 
by  the  curiofiry  of  the  moment  or  the  accidental 
courfe  of  my  own  ftudies  ;    yet,  I  have  had  it  in 
view,  to  vary,  as  far  as  poffible,  the  nature  of  my 
fpeculations,  in  order  to  fliow  how  numerous  and 
different  the  applications  are,  of  which  this  philofo- 
phy is  fufceptible.     It  will  not,  therefore,  I  hope,  be 
objected  to  me,  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  a  blamea- 
ble  violation  of  unity  in  the  plan  of  my  work,  till  it 
be  coniidered  how  far  fuch  a  violation  was  ufeful 
for  accomplifliing  the  purpofes  for  which  I  write. 
One  fpecies  of  unity,  I  am  willing  to  believe,  an  at- 
tentive reader  will  be  able  to  trace  in  it ;  I  mean  that 
uniformity  of  thought  and  deflgn,  "  which"  (as  But- 
ler well  remarks,)  "'  we  may  always  exped:  to  meet 
"  with  in  the  compofitions  of  the  fame  author,  when 
"  he  writes  with  fimplicity,  and  in  earneft." 


ELEMENTS 


OP  THE 


PHILOSOPHY 


OF  THE 


HUMAN  MIND. 


»e«4»9®@K^i€^90«»««ai 


CHAPTER  FIRST. 

OF  THE  POWERS  OF  EXTERNAL  PERCEPTION. 

SECTION  I. 

Of  the  Theories  which  have  been  formed  by  Philofophers^ 
to  explain  the  manner  in  which  the  Mind  perceives  ex- 
ternal  Objects, 

AMONG  the  various  phenomena  which  the  hu- 
man mind  prefents  to  our  view,  there  is  none  more 
calculated  to  excite  our  curiofity  and  our  wonder, 
than  the  communication  which  is  carried  on  be- 
tween the  fentient,  thinking,  and  aflive  principle 
within  us,  and  the  material  objects  with  which  we 
are  furrounded.  How  little  foever  the  bulk  of  m?.n- 
kind  may  be  difpofed  to  attend  to  fuch  inquiries, 
there  is  fcarcely  a  perfon  to  be  found,  who  has  not 
occafionally  turned  his  thoughts  to  that  myfterious 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  6& 

* 

influence,  which  the  will  pofleffes  over  the  members 
of  the  body ;'  and  to  thofe  powers  of  perception, 
which  feem  to  inform  us,  by  a  fort  of  infpiration,  of 
the  various  changes  which  take  place  in  the  external 
univerfe.  Of  thofe  who  receive  the  advantages  of  a 
liberal  education,  there  are  perhaps  few,  who  pafs 
the  period  of  childhood,  without  feeling  their  curi- 
oiity  excited  by  this  incomprehenfible  communica- 
tion between  mind  and  matter.  For  my  own  part, 
at  leaft,  I  cannot  recollect  the  date  of  my  earliefl 
fpeculations  on  the  fubjed. 

It  is  to  the  phenomena  of  perception  alone,  that  I 
am  to  confine  myfelf  in  the  following  elTay  ;  and 
even  with  refpecl  to  thefe,  all  that  I  propofe,  is  to 
offer  a  few  general  remarks  on  fuch  of  the  common 
miftakes  concerning  them,  as  may  be  moft  likely  to 
miflead  us  in  our  future  inquiries.  Such  of  my 
readers  as  wifh  to  confider  them  more  in  detail,  will 
find  ample  fatisfadion  in  the  writings  of  Dr.  Reid. 

In  confidering  the  phenomena  of  perception,  it  is 
natural  to  fuppofe,  that  the  attention  of  philofophers 
would  be  directed,  in  the  firft  inftance,  to  the  fenfe 
of  feeing.  The  variety  of  information  and  of  enjoy- 
ment we  receive  by  it ;  the  rapidity  with  which  this 
information  and  enjoyment  are  conveyed  to  us ;  and 
above  all,  the  intercourfe  it  enables  us  to  maintain 
with  the  more  dillant  part  of  the  univerfe,  cannot 
fail  to  give  it,  even  in  the  apprehenlion  of  the  moil 
carelefs  obferver,  a  pre-eminence  over  all  our  other 
perceptive  faculties.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  various 
theories,  which  have  been  formed  to  explain  the  op- 
€i*atious  of  our  fenfes,  have  a  more  immediate  ref- 
erence to  that  of  feeing  j  and  that  th^^  greater  part 
of  the  metaphyfical  language,  concerning  perception 
in  general,  appears  evidently,  from  its  etymology, 
to  have  been  fuggefted  by  the  phenomena  of  viiion. 
Even  when  applied  to  this  fenfe,  indeed,  it  can  at 
moft  amufethe  fajicv,  without  conveying  ui.v  \ 


r*"*- 


64  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

cife  knowledge  ;  but,  when  applied  to  the  other  fen- 
ces, it  is  altogether  abfurd  and  unintelligible. 

It  would  be  tedious  and  uieiefs,  to  confider  partic- 
ularly, the  different  hypothefis  which  have  been  ad- 
vanced upon  this  fubjeci:  To  all  of  them,  I  appre- 
hend, the  two  following  remarks  will  be  found  ap- 
plicable :  Firft,  that,  in  the  formation  of  them,  their 
authors  have  been  influenced  by  fome  general  max- 
ims of  philofophifing,  borrowed  from  phyiics  5  and, 
fecondly,  that  they  have  been  influenced  by  an  in- 
diftincl,  but  deep-rooted,  conviction,  of  the  immate- 
riality of  the  foul ;  which,  although  not  precife  e- 
nough  to  point  out  to  them  the  abfurdity  of  at- 
tempting to  illuftrate  its  operations  by  the  analogy 
of  matter,  was  yet  fufficiently  ftrong,  to  induce  them 
to  keep  the  abfurdity  of  their  theories  as  far  as  pof- 
iible  out  of  view,  by  allufions  to  thofe  phyfical  fadls, 
in  which  the  diflindtive  properties  of  matter  are  the 
leaft  grofsly  and  palpably  expofed  to  our  obfervation. 
To  the  former  of  thefe  circumftances,  is  to  be  afcri- 
bed,  the  general  principle,  upon  which  all  the  known 
theories  of  perception  proceed  ;  that,  in  order  to 
explain  the  intercourfe  between  the  mind  and  dif- 
tant  objects,  it  is  neceflary  to  fuppofe  the  exiftence 
of  fomething  intermediate,  by  which  its  perceptions 
are  produced  ;  to  the  latter,  the  various  metaphor- 
ical expreflions  oi ideas ^  fpecks^  forms ^  fnadoivs^  phan- 
tafms^  images  ;  which,  while  they  amufed  the  fancy 
with  fome  remote  analogies  to  the  objeds  of  our  fen- 
fes,  did  not  diredly  revolt  our  reafon,  by  prefenting 
to  us  any  of  the  tangible  qualities  ot  body. 

"  It  was  the  doclrine  of  Ariftotle,  (fays  Dr.  Reid) 
"  that,  as  our  fenfes  connot  receive  external  materi- 
"  al  objects  themfelves,  they  receive  their  fpecies  ; 
"  that  is,  their  images  or  forms,  without  the  mat- 
"  ter  ;  as  wax  receives  the  form  of  the  feal, 
"  without  any  of  the  matter  of  it.  Thefe  images 
''  or  forms,  imprefled  upon  the  fenfes,  are  caliedyi?;. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  65 

^^  fihle fpecies  ;  and  are  the  objeds  only  of  the  fenfi- 
"  tive  part  of  the  mind  :  but  by  various,  internal 
"  powers,  they  are  retained,  refined,  and  fpirituali. 
"  zed,  fo  as  to  become  objects  of  memory  and  ima- 
"  gination  ;  and  at  laft,  of  pure  intelledion.  When 
"  they  are  objeds  of  memory  and  imagination,  they 
"  get  the  name  o^phantafnu.  When,  by  farther  re- 
"  finement,  and  being  ftripped  of  their  particulari- 
"  ties,  they  become  objects  of  (cience,  they  are  caU 
"  led  intelligible  /pedes  :  fo  that  every  immediate  ob- 
''  jecl,  whether  of  fenfe,  of  memory,  of  imagination, 
"  or  of  reafoning,  muft  be  fome  phantafm,  or  fpe- 
"  cies,  in  the  mind  itfeif. 

''  The  followers  of  Ariftotle,  efpecially  the  fchool- 
''  men,  made  great  additions  to  this  theory  ;  which 
"  the  author  himfelf  mentions  very  briefly,  and  with 
**  an  appearance  of  referve.  They  entered  into  large 
"  difquifitions  with  regard  to  the  fenfible  fpecies, 
**  what  kind  of  things  they  are  j  how  they  are  fent 
*'  forth  by  the  objed,  and  enter  by  the  organs  of  the 
"  fenfes  ;  how  they  are  preferved,  and  refined  by  va- 
"  rious  agents,  called  internal  fenfes,  concerning  the 
"  number  and  offices  of  which  they  had  many  con- 
"  troverfies."* 

The  Platonifts,  too,  although  they  denied  the  great 
dodrine  of  the  Peripatetics,  that  all  the  objeds  of 
human  underftanding  enter  at  firft  by  the  fenfes  ; 
and  maintained,  that  there  exift  eternal  and  immu- 
table ideas,  which  were  prior  to  the  objeds  of  fenfe, 
and  about  which  all  fcience  was  employed  ;  yet  ap- 
pear to  have  agreed  with  them  in  their  notions  con- 
cerning the  ;[node  in  which  external  objects  are  per- 
ceived. This,  Dr.  Reid  infers,  partly  from  the  fi- 
lence  of  Ariftotle  about  any  difference  between  him- 
felf and  his  mafler  upon  this  point ;  and  partly  from 
a  pafTage  in  the  feventh  book  of  Plato's  Republic  ;  in 
which  he  compares  the  procefs  of  the  mind  in  per- 
*  Essajson  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  p.  25. 

T 


06  ELEMENTS  Of  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ception,  to  that  of  a  perfon  in  a  cave,  who  fees  not 
external  objecls  themfelves,  but  only  their  fhadows.* 

"  Two  thoufand  years  after  Plato,  (continues  Dr, 
"  Reid,)  Mr.  Locke,  who  fludied  the  operations  of 
*'  the  human  mind  fo  much,  and  with  fo  great  fuc- 
*'  cefs,  reprefcnts  our  manner  of  perceiving  external 
*'  objects,  by  a  fimilitude  very  much  refembling  that 
*'  of  a  cave. — "  Methinks,"  fays  he,  "  the  under- 
*'  (landing  is  not  much  unlike  a  clofet,  wholly  fhut 
*'  from  light,  with  only  fome  little  opening  left,  to 
*'  let  in  external  vilible  refemblances  or  ideas  of 
*'  things  without.  Would  the  pidures  coming  into 
*'  fuch  a  dark  room  but  ftay  there,  and  lie  fo  orderly 
*'  as  to  be  found  upon  occafion,  it  would  very  much 
**  refemble  the  underftandingof  i  man,  in  reference 
"  to  all  objeAs  of  fight,  and  the  ideas  of  them."t 

"  Plato's  fubterranean  cave,  and  Mr  l^ocke's  dark 
*'  clofet,  may  be  applied  with  eafe  to  all  the  fyftems 
"  of  perception,  that  have  been  invented :  for  they 
*'  all  fuppofe,  that  we  perceive  not  external  objeds 
^'  immediately ;  and  that  the  immediate  objeds  of 
*'  perception,  are  only  certain  fliadows  of  the  exter- 
*'  nal  objedls.  Thofe  fhadows,  or  images,  which  we 
*'  immediately  perceive,  were  by  the  ancients  called 
^^  fpecies^  forms^  phantafms.  Since  the  lime  of  Des 
*'  Cartes,  they  have  commonly  been  called  ideas  ;  J 
*'  and  by  Mr.  Hume,  imprejjtons.  But  all  the  philof- 
*'  ophers,  from  Plato  to  Mr.  Hume,  agree  in  this, 
*'  that  we  do  not  perceive  external  objeds  immedi- 
*'  ately  ;  and  that  the  immediate  obje<5l  of  percep- 
"  tion  muft  be  fome  image  prefent  to  the  mind.'* 
On  the  whole.  Dr.  Reid  remarks,  "  that  in  their 
*'  fentiments  concerning  perception,  there  appears 
*'  an  uniformity,  which  rarely  occurs  upon  fubjeds 
*^  of  fo  abftrufe  a  nature."  § 

*  Ibid.  p.  99. 
t  Locke  on  Human  Understanding,  book  ii.  chap.  1 1.  §  17. 
t  See  Note  [B.]  §  Reid,  p.  1 1 6,  1 1 7. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  67 

The  very  Ihort  and  imperfect  review  we  have 
mow  taken,  of  the  common  theories  of  perception, 
is  almoft  fuiEcient,  without  any  commentary,  to  ef- 
tabliih  the  truth  of  the  two  general  obfervations  for- 
merly made  ;  for  they  all  evidently  proceed  on  a 
fuppofition,  fuggefted  by  the  phenomena  of  phyfics, 
that  there  muft  of  neceflity  exift  fome  medium  of 
communication  between  the  objeds  of  perception 
and  the  percipient  mind  ;  and  they  all  indicate  a  fe- 
cret  conviction  in  their  authors,  of  the  effential  dif- 
tin<^ion  between  mind  and  matter ;  which,  although 
not  rendered,  by  reflection,  fufiiciently  precife  and 
fatisfadory,  to  fhew  them  the  abfurdity  of  attempt- 
ing to  explain  the  mode  of  their  communication  ; 
had  yet  fuch  a  degree  of  influence  on  their  fpecula- 
tiong,  as  to  induce  them  to  exhibit  their  fuppofed 
medium  under  as  myfterious  and  ambiguous  a  form 
as  poflible,  in  order  that  it  might  remain  doubtful, 
to  which  of  the  two  predicaments,  of  body  or  mind, 
they  meant  that  it  fliould  be  referred.  By  refining 
away  the  grofler  qualities  of  matter  ;  and  by  allu- 
fions  to  fome  of  the  mod:  aerial  and  magical  appear- 
ances it  aflumes,  they  endeavored,  as  it  were,  to  fpir- 
ituahze  the  nature  of  their  medium  ;  while,  at  the 
fame  time,  all  their  language  concerning  it,  implied 
fuch  a  reference  to  matter,  as  was  necerfary  for  fur- 
nifliing  a  plauiible  foundation,  for  applying  to  it  the 
received  maxims  of  natural  philofophy- 

Another  obfervation,  too,  which  was  formerly 
hinted  at,  is  confirmed  by  the  fame  hiftorical  re- 
view ;  that,  in  the  order  of  inquiry,  the  phenome- 
na of  vifion  had  firft  engaged  the  attention  of  phi- 
lofophers  ;  and  had  fuggeiled  to  them  the  greater 
part  of  their  language,  with  refpecl  to  perception  in 
general ;  and  that  in  confequence  of  this  circumflance, 
the  common  modes  of  expreflion  on  the  fubjecl,  un- 
philofophical  and  fanciful  at  beft,  even  when  appli- 
ed to  the  fenfe  of  feeing,are,in  the  cafe  of  all  the  other 


68  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fenfes,  obvioufly  unintelligible  and  felf-contradido- 
ry. — "  As  to  the  objeds  of  fight,"  fays  Dr.  Reid,  "  I 
*'  underftand  what  is  meant  by  an  image  of  their 
.*'  figure  in  the  brain  :  but  how  fhall  we  conceive 
*'  an  image  of  their  colour,  where  there  is  abfolute 
*'  darknefs  ?  And,  as  to  all  other  objects  of  fenfe, 
*'  except  figure  and  colour,  I  am  unable  to  conceive 
"  what  is  meant  by  an  image  of  them.  Let  any" 
"  man  fay,  what  he  means  by  an  image  of  heat  and 
"  cold,  an  image  of  hardnefs  or  foftnefs,  an  image 
"  of  found,  or  fmell,  or  taile.  The  word  i7nage^  when 
*'  app[ied  to  thefe  objeds  of  fenfe,  has  ablblutely  no 
*^  meaning.'* — This  palpable  imperfedion  in  the  ideal 
theory,  has  plainly  taken  rife  from  the  natural  or- 
der in  which  the  phenomena  of  perception  prefent 
themfelves  to  the  curiofity. 

The  miftakes,  which  have  been  fo  long  current  in 
the  world,  about  this  part  of  the  human  conftitution, 
will,  I  hope,  juftify  me  for  profecuting  the  fubje<5l  a 
little  farther  j  in  particular,  for  illufirating,  at  fome 
length,  the  firfi:  of  the  two  general  remarks  already 
referred  to.  This  fpeculation  I  enter  upon  the 
more  willingly,  that  it  affords  me  an  opportunity  of 
dating  fome  important  principles  with  refpedl  to  the 
objed,  and  the  limits,  of  philofophical  inquiry  ;  to 
which  I  ftiall  frequently  have  occafion  to  refer,  in  the 
courfe  of  the  following  difquifitions. 

SECTION  II. 

Of  certain  natural  prejudices^  whithfeem  to  have  given 
rife  to  the  common  Theories  of  Perception, 

IT  feems  now  to  be  pretty  generally  agreed  a- 
mong  philofophers,  that  there  is  no  inflance  in 
which  we  are  able  to  perceive  a  necelfary  connexion 
between  two  fuccefiive  events  ;  or  to  comprehend 
in  what  manner  the  one  proceeds  from  the  other. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  09 

as  its  caufe.  From  experience,  indeed,  we  learn, 
that  there  are  many  events,  which  are  conftantly 
conjoined,  fo  that  the  one  invariably  follows  the  oth- 
er  :  but  it  is  poflible,  for  any  thing  we  know  to  the 
contrary,  that  this  connexion,  though  a  conftant 
one,  as  far  as  our  obfervation  has  reached,  may  not 
be  a  necefl'ary  connexion  ;  nay,  it  is  poflible,  that 
there  may  be  no  neceflary  connexions  among  any  of 
the  phenomena  we  fee  :  and  if  there  are  any  fuch 
connexions  exifting,  we  may  reft  affured  that  we 
fliall  never  be  able  to  difcover  them.* 

I  fhall  endeavor  to  Ihew,  in  another  part  of  this 
work,  that  the  doctrine  I  have  now  ftated  does  not 
lead  to  thofe  fceptical  conclufions,  concerning  the 
exiftence  of  aFirft  Caufejwhich  an  author  of  great  in- 
genuity has  attempted  to  deduce  from  it.  At  pref* 
ent,  it  is  fufficient  for  my  purpofe  to  remark,  that 
the  word  caufe  is  ufed,  both  by  philofophers  and  the 
vulgar,  in  two  fenfes,  which  are  widely  different. — 
"When  it  is  faid,  that  every  change  in  nature  indi- 
cates th©  operation  of  a  caufe,  the  word  caufe  exprefl". 
es  fomething  which  is  fuppofed  to  be  neceffarily  con- 
necled  with  the  change  ;  and  without  which  it 
could  not  have  happened.  This  may  be  called  the 
metaphyfical  meaning  of  the  word  ;  and  fuch  caufes 
may  be  called  Tuetaphyfical  or  efficient  caufes. — In  nat- 
ural philofophy,  however,  when  we  fpeak  of  one 
thing  being  the  caufe  of  another,  all  that  we  mean 
is,  that  the  two  are  conftantly  conjoined  ;  fo  that, 
when  we  fee  the  one,  we  may  expect  the  other. 
Thefe  conjunftions  we  learn  from  experience  alone  ; 
and  without  an  acquaintance  with  them,  we  could 
not  accommodate  our  condud  to  the  eftabliflied 
courfe  of  nature. — The  caufes  which  are  the  objecEls 
of  our  inveftigation  in  natural  philofophy,  may,  for 
the  lake  of  diftindion,  be  cAled  fby/icai  caufes. 

♦  See  note  [C]. 


70  ELEMENTS  OP  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

I  am  very  ready  to  acknowledge,  that  this  doc- 
trine, concerning  the  obje<^  of  natural  philoibphy, 
is  not  altogether  agreeable  to  popular  prejudices. 
When  a  man,  unaccuftomed  to  metaphylical  fpccu- 
lations,  is  told,  for  the  firfl  time,  that  the  fcience  of 
phylics  gives  us  no  information  concerning  the  effi- 
cient caufes  of  the  phenomena  about  which  it  is  em- 
ployed, he  feels  fome  degree  of  furprife  and  mortifi- 
cation. The  natural  bias  of  the  mind,  is  furely  to 
conceive  phyfical  events  as  fomehow  linked  togeth- 
er ;  and  material  fubttances,  as  poffefled  of  certain 
powers  and  virtues,  which  fit  them  to  produce  par- 
ticular effed:s.  That  we  have  no  reafon  to  believe 
this  to  be  the  cafe,  has  been  fliewn  in  a  very  fatis- 
fa<5tory  manner  by  Mr.  Hume,  and  by  other  writ- 
ers ;  and  muft,  indeed,  appear  evident  to  every  per- 
fon,  on  a  moment's  refl?dion.  It  is  a  curious  quef- 
tion,  what  gives  rife  to  the  prejudice  ? 

In  fiiating  the  argument  for  the  exiftence  of  the 
Deity,  feveral  modern  philofophers  have  been  at 
pains  to  illuftrate  that  law  of  our  nature,  which  leads 
us  to  refer  every  change  we  perceive  in  the  univerfe, 
to  the  operation  of  an  efficient  caufe.* — This  refer- 
ence is  not  the  refult  of  reafoning,  but  neceflarily  ac- 
companies  the  perception,  fo  as  to  render  it  impofli- 
ble  for  us  to  fee  the  change,  without  feeling  a  con- 
viction of  the  operation  of  some  caufe  by  which  it 
was  produced  ;  much  in  the  fame  manner  in  which 
we  find  it  to  be  impoflible  to  conceive  a  fenfation, 
without  being  imprefied  with  a  belief  of  the  exill- 
ence  of  a  fentient  being.  Hence,  I  apprehend,  it  is, 
that  when  we  fee  two  events  conftantly  conjoined, 
we  are  led  to  aflbciate  the  idea  of  caufation,  or  effi- 
ciency, with  the  former,  and  to  refer  to  it  that  pow^ 
er  or  energy  by  which  the  change  was  produced  ; 
in  confequence  of  which   aflbciation,  we  come  to 

*  See,  in  particular,  Dr.  Raid's  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Pow- 
ers of  Man. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND*  71 

Gonfider  philofophy  as  the  knowledge  of  efficient 
caufes  ;  and  Jofe  fight  of  the  operation  of  mind,  in 
producing  the  phenomena  of  nature. — It  is  by  an  af- 
fociation  fomewhat  fimilar,  that  we  connect  our  fen- 
fations  of  color,  with  the  primary  qualities  of  body. 
A  moment's  refledion  mutt  fiatisfy  any  one,  that  the 
fenfation  of  color  can  only  refide  in  a  mind  ;  and 
yet  our  natural  bias  is  iurely  to  connect  color  with 
extenfion  and  figure,  and  to  conceive  white^  blue,  and 
yellow,  as  fomething  fpread  over  the  bodies.  In  the 
fame  way,  we  are  led  to  affociate  with  inanimate 
matter,  the  ideas  oi power,force,  energy,  and  caufation  ; 
which  are  all  attributes  of  mind,  and  can  exitt  in  a 
mind  only. 

This  bias  of  our  nature  is  ftrengthened  by  another 
aflbciation.  Our  language,  with  refpe6fc  to  caufe  and 
efFedl,  is  borrowed  by  analogy  from  material  objefts. 
Some  of  thefe  we  fee  fcattered  about  us,  without 
any  connexion  between  them  ;  fo  that  one  of  them 
may  be  removed  from  its  place,  without  difturbing 
the  reft.  We  can,  however,  by  means  of  fome  ma- 
terial vinculum,  conned  two  or  more  objects  togeth- 
er ;  fo  that  whenever  the  one  is  moved,  the  others 
Ihall  follow.  In  like  manner,  we  fee  fome  events, 
which  occafionally  follow  one  another,  and  which 
are  occafionally  disjoined  :  we  fee  others,  where  the 
fucceffion  is  conftant  and  invariable.  The  former 
we  conceive  to  be  analogous  to  obje<^s  which  are 
loofe,  and  unconneded  with  each  other,  and  whofe 
contiguity  in  place,  is  owing  merely  to  accidental 
pofition  ;  the  others  to  objeds,  which  are  tied  to- 
gether by  a  material  vinculum.  Hence  we  transfer 
to  fuch  events,  the  fame  language  which  we  apply 
to  conneded  objeds.  We  fpeak  of  a  connexion  be- 
tween two  events,andof  a  chain  of  caufes  and  effeds.* 

That  this  language  is  merely  analogical,  and  that 

♦  See  Note  [D.] 


72  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

we  know  nothing  of  phylical  events,  but  the  laws 
which  regulate  their  fucceflion,  muft,  I  think,  appear 
very  obvious  to  every  perfon  who  takes  the  trouble 
to  refled  on  the  fubjed  ;  and  yet  it  is  certain,  that  it 
has  mifled  the  greater  part  of  philofophers ;  and  has 
had  a  furprifmg  influence  on  the  fy Items,  which  they 
have  formed  in  very  different  departments  of  fcience, 

A  few  remarks,  on  fome  of  the  miftaken  conclu- 
fions,  to  which  the  vulgar  notions  concerning  the 
connexions  among  phyfical  events  have  given  rife,  in 
natural  philofophy,  will  illuftrate  clearly  the  origin  of 
the  common  theories  of  perception  ;  and  will,  at  the 
fame  time,  fatisfy  the  reader,  with  refpedt  to  the 
train  of  thought  which  fuggelled  the  foregoing  ob- 
fervations. 

The  maxim,  that  nothing  can  adl  but  where  it  is, 
and  when  it  is, has  always  been  aumitied,  with  refpect 
to  metaphyfical  or  efficient  caufes.  "  Whatever  ob- 
"jefls,"  fays  Mr  Hume,  "  are  confidered  as  caufes 
"  or  effects,  are  contiguous  ;  and  nothing  can  ope- 
"  rate  in  a  time  or  place,  which  is  ever  fo  little  re- 
^*  moved  from  thofe  of  its  exiftence."  "  We  may 
*'  therefore  (he  adds)  confider  the  relation  of  conti- 
"  guity  as  eflential  to  that  of  caufation." — But  al- 
though this  maxim  fhould  be  admitted,  with  ref- 
ped  to  caufes  which  are  efficient,  and  which,  as  fuch, 
are  neceflarily  connected  with  their  effects,  tlv  re  is 
furely  no  good  reafon  for  extending  it  to  phyfical 
caufes,  of  which  we  know  nothing,  but  that  they 
are  the  conflant  forerunners  and  iigns  of  certain  nat- 
ural events.  It  may,  indeed,  be  improper,  accord- 
ing to  this  doctrine,  to  retain  the  expreffions,  cavfe 
and  effed;^  in  natural  philofophy  ;  but,  as  long  as  the 
prefent  language  upon  the  fubjed  continues  in  ufe, 
the  propriety  of  its  application,  in  any  particular  in- 
ftance,  does  not  depend  on  the  contiguity  of  the  two 
events  in  place  or  time,  but  folely  on  this  queftion, 
whether  the  one  event  be  the  conftant  and  invaria- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  73 

ble  forerunner  of  the  other,  fo  that  it  may  be  confid- 
ered  as  its  infallible  fign  ? — Notwithftanding,  how- 
ever, the  evidence  of  this  conclulion,  philofophers 
have  in  general  proceeded  upon  a  contrary  fuppofi- 
tion  ;  and  have  difcovered  an  unwillingnefs,  even  in 
phyfics,  to  call  one  event  the  caufe  of  another,  if  the 
fniaiieft  interval  of  fpace  or  time  exifted  between 
them.  In  the  cafe  of  motion,  communicated  by 
impulfe,  they  have  no  fcruple  to  call  the  impuUe  the 
caufe  of  the  motion  ;  but  they  will  not  admit  that 
one  body  can  be  the  caufe  of  motion  in  another,  pla- 
ced at  a  diiimce  from  it,  unlefs  a  connexion  is  car- 
ried on  between  them,  by  means  of  fome  interven- 
ing medium. 

It  is  unneceffary  for  me,  after  what  has  already 
been  faid,  to  employ  any  arguments  to  prove,  that 
the  communication  of  motion  by  impulfe,  is  as  un- 
accountable, as  any  other  phenomenon  in  nature. 
Thofe  philofophers  who  have  attended  at  all  to  the 
fubject,  even  they  who  have  been  the  leall:  fceptical 
with  refped  to  caufe  and  effecl,  and  who  have  ad- 
mitted a  neceifary  connedlion  among  phyfical  events, 
have  been  forced  to  acknowledge,  that  they  could 
not  difcover  any  neceifary  connexion  between  im- 
pulfe and  motion.  Hence,  fome  of  them  have  been 
led  to  conclude,  that  the  impulfe  only  roufes  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  body,  and  that  the  fubfequent  motion 
is  the  effed  of  this  activity,  conftantiy  exerted. 
*'  Motion,"  fays  one  writer,  "  is  adion  ;  and  a  con- 
*'  tinned  motion  implies  a  continued  adion."  "  The 
"  impulfe  is  only  the  caufe  of  the  beginning  of  the 
*'  motion  ;  its  continuance  muft  be  the  effed  of  fome 
"  other  caufe,  which  continues  to  act  as  long  as  the 
*'  body  continues  to  move."  The  attempt  which 
another  writer  of  great  learning  has  made,  to  revive 
the  ancient  theory  of  mind,  has  arifen  from  a  firai- 
lar  view  of  the  fui>jecl  before  us.  He  could  difcov- 
er no  neceflary  connection  between  impulfe  and 
K 


74  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

motion  ;  and  concluded,  that  the  impulfe  was  only 
the  occafton  of  the  motion,  the  beginning  and  con- 
tinuance of  which  he  afcribed  to  the  continued  agen- 
cy of  the  mind  with  which  the  body  is  animated. 

Although,  however,  it  be  obvious,  on  a  moment's 
confideration,  that  we  are  as  ignorant  of  the  con- 
nexion between  impulfe  and  motion,  as  of  the  con- 
nexion between  fire  and  any  of  the  efFccbs  we  fee  it 
produce,  philofophers,  in  every  age,  feem  to  ha/e 
confidered  the  production  of  vnotion  by  impulfe,  as 
almoft  the  only  phyfical  fact  which  flood  in  need  of 
no  explanation.  When  we  fee  one  body  attrad  an- 
other at  a  diilance,  our  curiolity  is  roufed,  and  we 
inquire  how  the  connexion  is  carried  on  between 
them.  But  when  v/e  fee  a  body  begin  to  move  in 
confequence  of  an  impulfe  which  another  has  given 
it,  we  inquire  no  farther :  on  the  contrary,  we  think 
a  fa6t  fufHciently  accounted  for,  if  it  can  be  ihewn 
to  be  a  cafe  of  impulfe.  This  difHnclion,  between 
motion  produced  by  impulfe,  and  the  other  phenom- 
ena of  nature,  we  are  led,  in  a  great  meafure,  to 
make,  by  confounding  together  efficient  and  phyfi- 
calcaufesj  and  by  applying  to  the  latter,  maxims 
which  have  properly  a  reference  only  to  the  former. 
— Another  circumftance,  likewife,  has  probably  ci^n- 
liderabie  influence  :  that,  as  it  is  by  means  of  im- 
puiie  alone,  that  we  ourfelves  have  a  power  of  mov- 
ing external  objects ;  this  facl  is  more  familiar  to  us 
from  our  infancy  than  any  other  ;  and  flrikes  us  as 
a  fact  which  is  neceflary,  and  which  could  not  have 
happened  otherwife.  Some  writers  have  even  gone 
fo  far  as  to  pretend  that,  although  the  experiment 
had  never  been  niiide,  the  communication  of  the  mo- 
tion by  impulfe,  might  have  been  predicted  by  rea- 
foning  a  prior u* 


*  See  an  Answer  to  Lord  Kainis's  E?feay  on  motion ;  by  John 
Stewart.  M.  D. 


n 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  75 

From  the  following  pafllige,  in  one  of  Sir  Ifaac 
Newton's  letters  to  Dr.  Bentley,  it  appears  that  he 
fuppofed  the  communication  of  motion  by  impulfe, 
to  be  a  phenomenon  much  more  explicable,  than  that 
a  connexion  ihould  fubfift  between  two  bodies  pla- 
ced at  a  diftance  from  each  other,  without  any  in- 
tervening medium.  "  It  is  inconceivable,"  fays  he, 
^'  that  inzinimate  brute  matter  fhould,  without  the 
*'  mediation  of  fomething  elfe  which  is  not  material, 
"  operate  upon,  and  afl'ed  other  matter,  without 
*'  mutual  contact ;  as  it  muft  do,  if  gravitation,  in 
"  the  fenfe  of  Epicurus,  be  cilbntial  and  inherent  in 
*'  it.  And  this  is  one  reafon  why  I  defired  that  you 
**  would  not  afcribe  innate  gravity  to  me.  That 
<«  gravity  fliould  be  innate,  inherent,  and  effential  to 
"  matter,  fo  that  one  body  may  acl  on  another, 
*'  through  a  vacuum,  without  the  mediation  of  any 
"  thing  elfe,  by  and  through  which  their  adion  and 
*'  force  may  be  conveyed  from  one  to  another,  is  to 
*'  me  fo  great  an  abfurdity,  that  I  believe  no  man 
**  who  has,  in  philofophical  matters,  a  competent 
**  faculty  of  thinking,  can  ever  fall  into  it." 

With  this  paliage  I  fo  far  agree,  as  to  allow  that  it 
is  impoflible  to  conceive,  in  what  manner  one  body 
afe  on  another  at  a  dillance,  through  a  vacuum. 
But  I  cannot  admit  that  it  removes  the  difficulty  to 
fuppofe  that  the  two  bodies  are  in  actual  contact. 
That  one  body  may  be  the  efficient  caufe  of  the  mo- 
tion of  another  body  placed  at  a  dillance  from  it,  I 
do  by  no  means  ailert  ;  but  only,  that  we  have  as 
good  reafon  to  l)^lieve  that  this  may  be  poffible,  as  to 
believe  that  any  one  natural  event  is  the  efficient 
caufe  of  another. 

I  have  been  led  into  this  very  long  dlfquifition, 
concerning  efficient  and  phyfical  caufes,  in  order  to 
point  out  the  origin  of  the  conunon  theories  of  per- 
ception ;  all  of  which  appear  to  me  to  have  taken 
rife  from  th«  fame  prejudice,  which  I  have  already 


76  ELEMENTS  OP  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

remarked  to  have  had  fo  extenfive  an  influence  up* 
op  the  fpeculatians  of  natural  philofophers. 

That,  in  the  cafe  of  the  perception  of  diftant  ob- 
jeds,  we  are  naturally  inclined  to  fufped,  either 
fomething  to  be  emitted  from  the  object  to  the  or- 
gan of  lenfe,  or  fome  medium  to  intervene  between 
the  object  and  organ,  by  means  of  whicli  the  former 
may  communicate  an  impulfe  to  the  latter  ;  appears 
from  the  common  modes  of  expreflion  on  the  fubjecl, 
which  are  to  be  found  in  all  languages.  In  our  own, 
for  example,  we  frequently  hear  the  vulgar  fpeak, 
of  light  ftriking  the  eye  ;  not  in  confequence  of  any 
philofophical  theory  they  have  been  taught,  but  of 
their  own  crude  and  undirected  fpeculations.  Per- 
haps there  are  few  men  among  thofe  who  have  at- 
tended at  all  to  the  hiftory  of  their  own  thoughts, 
who  will  not  recoiled:  the  influence  of  thefe  ideas,  at 
a  period  of  life  long  prior  to  the  date  of  their  philo- 
fophical ftudies.  Nothing,  indeed,  can  be  conceiv* 
ed  more  fimple  and  natural  than  their  origin.  When 
an  object  is  placed  in  a  certain  lituation  with  refpe(^ 
to  a  particular  organ  of  the  body,  a  perception  arifes 
in  the  mind  ;  when  the  object  is  removed,  the  per- 
ception ceafes.  *  Hence  we  are  led  to  apprehend 
fome  connexion  between  the  objed:  and  the  per- 
ception ;  and  as  we  are  accuftomed  to  believe,  that 
matter  produces  its  efFe<5ts  by  impulfe,  we  conclude 
that  there  muft  be  fome  material  medium  interven- 
ing between  the  objed:  and  organ,  by  means  of  wJiich 
the  impulfe  is  communicated  from  the  one  to  the 
other. — That  this  is  really  the  cafe,  I  do  not  mean 

*  Turn  porro  varies  rerum  sentimus  odores, 
Nee  tamen  ad  nareis  venienteis  cernimus  unquam  : 
Nee  calidos  aestus  tuimur,  nee  frigora  quimus 
Usurpare  oculis,  nee  voces  cernere  suemus  ; 
(iua?  tamen  omnia  corporea  oonstare  necesse  'st 
Natura  ;  quoniam  sensus  impellere  possunt. 

LucRET.  lib.  i.  p.  299. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  77 

to  difpute.  I  think,  however,  it  is  evident,  that  the 
exillence  of  fuch  a  medium  does  not  in  any  cafe  ap- 
pear a  priori  ;  and  yet  the  natural  prejudices  of  men 
have  given  rife  to  an  univerfal  belief  of  it,  long  be- 
fore they  were  able  to  produce  any  good  arguments 
in  fupport  of  their  opinion. 

Nor  is  it  only  to  account  for  the  connexion,  be- 
tween the  objed:  and  the  organ  of  fenfe,  that  philof- 
ophers  have  had  recourfe  to  the  theory  of  impulfe. 
They  have  imagined  that  the  imprellion  on  the  or- 
gan of  fenfe  is  communicated  to  the  mind,  in  a  fim- 
ilar  manner.  As  one  body  produces  a  change  in  the 
ftate  of  another  by  impulfe,  fo  it  has  been  fuppofed, 
that  the  external  objeA  produces  perception,  (which 
is  a  change  in  the  ftate  of  the  mind,)  firft,  by  fome 
material  impreflion  made  on  the  organ  of  lenfe ;  and, 
fecondly,  by  fome  material  impreffion  communica- 
ted from  the  organ  to  the  mind  along  the  nerves 
and  brain.  Thefe  fuppofitions,  indeed,  as  I  had  oc- 
calion  already  to  hint,  were,  in  the  ancient  theories 
of  perception,  rather  implied  than  exprelTed ;  but 
by  modern  philofophers,  they  have  been  ftated  in 
the  form  of  explicit  propofitions.  "  As  to  the  man- 
"  ner,"  fays  Mr,  Locke,  "  in  which  bodies  produce 
*'  ideas  in  us  ;  it  is  manifeftly  by  impulfe,  the  only 
"  way  which  we  can  conceive  bodies  operate  in."* 
And  Sir  Ifaac  Newton,  although  he  does  not  fpeak 
of  an  impulfe  made  on  the  mind,  plainly  proceeded 
on  the  principle  that,  as  matter  can  only  move  mat- 
ter by  impulfe,  fo  no  connexion  could  be  carried  on 
between  matter  and  mind,  unlefs  the  mind  were 
prefent  (as  he  exprelTes  it)  to  the  matter  from  which 
the  iaft  impreflion  is  communicated.  "  Is  not'*  (fays 
he)  "  the  fenforium  of  animals,  the  place  where  the 
*'  lentient  fubftance  is  prefent ;  and  to  which  the 
"  fenfible  fpecies  of  things  are  brought,  through  the 

*  Essay  on  Human  Understanding,  book  ii.  chap.  viii.  §  1 1. 


78  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPPIY 

"  nerves  and  brain,  that  there  they  may  be  perceiv- 
"  ed  by  the  mind  prelent  in  that  place  ?"  Dr.  Clarke 
has  expreffed  the  l-ime  idea  ftill  more  confidently, 
in  the  folh'wing  pailage  of  one  of  his  letters  to  Leib- 
nitz. "  Without  being  prefent*  to  the  images  of 
*'  the  things  perceived,  the  foul  could  not  poflibly 
"  perceive  them.  A  living  fubftance  can  only  there 
*'  perc(^ive,  where  it  is  prefent.  Nothing  can  any 
*'  more  act,  or  be  a(5led  upon,  where  it  is  not  prell 
*'  ent,  than  it  can  when  it  is  not."  "  How  body 
"  a6i:s  upon  mind,  or  mind  upon  body,"  (fays  Dr. 
Porterfield,t)  "I know  not;  but  this  1  am  very  certain 
"  of,  that  nothing  can  acf,  or  be  a6led  upon,  where 
*'  it  is  not ;  and  therefore,  our  mind  can  never  per- 
*'  ceive  any  thing  but  its  own  proper  modifications, 
"  and  the  various  ftates  of  the  fenforium,  to  which 
"  it  is  prefent :  fo  that  it  is  not  the  external  lun  and 
*'  moon,  which  are  in  the  heavens,  which  our  mind 
^^  perceives,  but  only  their  image  or  reprefentation, 
"  impreffed  upon  the  fenforium.  How  the  foul  of 
"  a  feeing  man  fees  thefe  images,  or  how  it  receives 
*'  thofe  ideas,  from  fuch  agitations  in  the  fenforium, 

*  This  phrase  of  "  the  soul  he'mg  present  to  the  images  of  exter- 
nal objects,"  has  been  Ubed  by  many  philosophers,  siiice  the  time 
of  Des  Cartes  ;  evidently  from  a  desire  to  avoid  the  absurdity  of 
supposii)g,  that  images  of  extension  and  figure  can  exist  in  an  un- 
ext ended  mind. 

"  Qurerib,"  (sti^^s  Des  Cartes  liimrelf,  in  replying  to  the  objec- 
tions of  one  of  his  antagonists)  "quomodo  exi&timjem  in  me  tub- 
"  jec*o  inextenso  recipi  posse  speciem,  ideamve  corporis  quod  ex- 
"  tensum  est.  Respondeo  nullam  speciem  corpoream  in  mente  re- 
''  cipi,  sed  puram  intellectionem  tam  rei  corpcrt^  quam  incorportae 
"  fieri  absque  ulla  specie  oorporea ;  ad  iraaginationem  vera,  quae 
*'  noil  nisi  de  rebus  corporeis  esse  potest,  opus  quidem  esse  specie 
*'  qii«  sit  verura  corpus,  et  ad  quatn  vienssc  appUcct,  sed  non  quae  in 

"  mente  recipiatur." It  appears,  therefore,  that  this  pkilcso- 

pher  supposed  hi-  images,  or  ideas,  to  exist  in  the  brow,  aiKi  not 
in  the  mind,  Mr.  I^cke's  expressions  sometimes  imply  the  one 
supposition,  and  sometimes  the  other. 

tSee  his  Treatise  on  the  Eye,  vol.  ii.  p.  350. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  7& 

"  I  know  not ;  but  I  am  fure  it  can  never  perceive 
*'  the  external  bodies  themfelves,  to  which  it  is  not 
"  prefent." 

*The  fame  train  of  thinking,  which  had  led  thefe 
philofophers  to  fuppofe,  that  external  objects  are  per- 
ceived by  means  of  fpecies  proceeding  from  the  ob- 
ject to  the  mind,  or  by  means  of  fome  material  im- 
preffion  made  on  the  mind  by  the  brain,  has  fuggeft- 
ed  to  a  late  writer  a  very  different  theory ;  that 
the  mind,  when  it  perceives  an  external  objedl,  quits 
the  body,  and  is  prefent  to  the  objefl  of  perception. 
"  The  mind,"  fays  the  learned  author  of  Antient 
Metaphyfics,)  "  is  not  where  the  body  is,  when  it 
*'  perceives  what  is  diftant  from  the  body,  either  in 
"  time  or  place,  becaufe  nothing  can  act,  but  w^hen, 
*'  and  where,  it  is.  Now,  the  mind  adis  when  it  per- 
"  ceives.  The  mind,  therefore,  of  every  animal  who 
*'  has  memory  or  imagination,  ads,  and  by  confe- 
*'  quence  exifts,  when  and  where  the  body  is  not ; 
*'  for  it  perceives  objects  diftant  from  the  body  both 
"  in  time  and  place."!  Indeed^  if  we  take  for  gran- 
ted, that  in  perception  the  mind  acts  upon  the  oi3Jecl, 
or  the  object  upon  the  mind,  and,  at  the  fame  time, 
admit  the  truth  of  the  maxim,  that  "  nothing  can 
*'  act  but  where  it  is,"  we  muft,  of  neceilky,  con- 
clude, either  that  obje<5ts  are  perceived  in  a  way  fim- 
ilar  to  what  is  fuppofed  in  the  ideal  theory,  or  that, 

*  "  The  slightest  philosophy"  (says  Mr.  Hnme)  "teaches  us,  that 
"  nothing  can  ever  be  present  to  the  mind,  hot  an  image,  or  per- 
"  ception  ;  and  that  the  senses  are  only  the  inlets  through  which 
*'  these  images  are  conveyed  ;  without  being  able  to  produce  any 
"  immediate  intercourse  between  the  mind  and  the  object.  The 
"  table,  which  we  see,  seems  to  diminish,  as  we  remove  farther 
"  from  it  :  but  the  real  table,  which  exists  independent  of  us,  buf- 
"  fers  no  alteration  :  it  was,  therefore,  nothing  but  its  image  which 
**  was  present  to  the  mind.  These  (he  adds)  are  the  obvious  dic- 
"  tates  of  reason." 

Essay  on  the  Academical  or  ScnpricAL  Philosophy. 

t  Ant.  Met.  vol.ii.  p.  300. 


80     "^''^         ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSePHY 

in  every  acl  of  perception,  the  foul  quits  the  body, 
and  is  prefent  to  the  object  perceived.  And  accor- 
dingly this  alternative  is  exprefsiy  ftated  by  Male- 
branche  ;  who  differs,  however,  from  the  writer  laft 
quoted,  in  the  choice  which  he  makes  of  his  hypoth- 
efis  ;  and  even  refts  his  proof  of  its  truth  on  the  im- 
probability of  the  other  opinion.  "  I  fuppofe,**  fays 
he,  "  that  every  one  will  grant,  that  we  perceive  not 
*'  external  objeds  immediately,  and  of  themfelves. 
"  We  fee  the  fun,  the  liars,  and  an  infinity  of  objects 
"  without  us  ;  and  it  is  not  at  all  likely  that,  upon 
"  fuch  occafiQns,  the  foul  failles  out  of  the  body,  in  or 
*'  der  to  be  prefent  to  the  objects  perceived.  She  fees 
'*  them  not  therefore  by  themfelves  ;  and  the  im* 
"  mediate  objed  of  the  mind  is  not  the  thing  per- 
"  ceived,  but  fomething  which  is  intimately  united 
"  to  the  foul ;  and  it  is  that  which  I  call  an  idea  :  fo 
"  that  by  the  word  idea,  I  underftand  nothing  elfe 
*'  here  but  that  which  is  nearell  to  the  mind  when 

"  we  perceive  any  object. -It  ought  to  be  careful- 

"  ly  obferved,  that,  in  order  to  the  mind's  perceiv- 
"  ing  any  object,  it  is  abfolutely  necellary  that  the 
"  idea  of  that  object  be  actually  prefent  to  it.  Of 
*'  this  it  is  not  poflible  to  doubt.  The  things  which 
"  the  foul  perceives,  are  of  two  kinds.  They  are 
"  either  in  the  foul,  or  they  are  without  the  foul. 
*'  Thofe  that  are  in  the  foul,  are  its  Qwn  thoughts  ; 
*'  that  is  to  fay,  all  its  different  modifications.  The 
*'  foul  has  no  need  of  ideas  for  perceiving  thefe 
"  things.  But  with  regard  to  things  without  the 
"  foul,  we  cannot  perceive  them  but  by  means  of 
"  ideas." 

To  thefe  quotations,  T  fhall  add  another,  which 
contains  the  opinion  of  BufFon  upon  the  fubject.  As 
I  do  not  underftand  it  fo  completely,  as  to  be  able  to 
tranflateit  in  a  manner  intelligible  to  myfelf,  I  ihall 
tranfcribe  it  in  the  words  of  the  author. 
"  L'arae  s'unit  intimcment  a  tel  objet  qu*il  iui  plait^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  81 

"  la  diftance,  la  grandeur,  la  figure,  rien  ne  peut 
*'  nuire  a  cette  union  lorfque  Tame  la  veut :    elle  fe 

"  fait  et  fe  fait  en  un  inftant la  volonte 

"  n'eft  elle  done  qi\'un  mouvement  corporel,  et  ia 
"  contemplation  un  fimple  attouchement  ?  Com- 
"  ment  cet  attouchement  pourroit-il  fe  faire  fur  un 
^'  objet  eloigne,  fur  un  fujet  abftrait  ?  Comment 
"  pourroit-il  s'operer  en  un  indent  indivifible?  A-t-on 
"  jamais  con9u  du  mouvement,  fans  qu'il  y  eut  de 
"  Tefpace  et  du  tems  ?  La  volonte,  fi  c'eil  un  mouve- 
"  ment,  n'eft  done  pas  un  mouvement  materiel,  et 
"  fi  Tunion  de  Tame  a  fon  objet  eft  un  attouchement, 
"  un  contaft,  cet  attouchement  ne  fe  fait-il  pas  au 
"  loin  ?  ce  conta6l  n'eft  il  pas  une  penetration  ?" 

All  thefe  theories  appear  to  me  to  have  taken  rife, 
firft,  from  an  inattention  to  the  proper  object  of 
philofophy,  and  an  application  of  the  fame  general 
maxims  to  phyftcal  and  to  efficient  caufes  ;  and,fec- 
ondly,  from  an  apprehenfion,  that  we  underftand 
the  connexion  between  impulfe  and  motion,  better 
than  any  other  phyftcal  fact.  From  the  detail  which 
I  have  given,  it  appears  how  extenfive  an  influence 
this  prejudice  has  had  on  the  inquiries  both  of  nat- 
ural  philofophers  and  of  metaphyficians. 

In  the  foregoing  reafonings,  I  have  taken  for  gran- 
ted, that  motion  may  be  produced  by  impulfe  ;  and 
have  contented  myfelf  with  aflerting,  that  this  fadt 
is  not  more  explicable,  than  the  motions  which  the 
Newtonians  refer  to  gravitation  ;  or  than  the  inter- 
courfe  which  is  carried  on  betvveen  the  mind  and 
external  objects  in  the  cafe  of  perception.  The 
truth,  however,  is,  that  fome  of  the  ableft  philofo- 
phers in  Europe  are  now  fatisfied,  not  only  that 
there  is  no  evidence  of  motion  being  in  any  cafe  pro- 
duced by  the  a«5lual  contadt  of  two  bodies  ;  but  that 
very  ftrong  proofs  may  be  given,  of  the  abfolute  im- 
poflibility  of  fuch  a  fuppofttion ;  and  hence  th^Y 
have  been  led  to  conclude,  that  all  the  eficofcs  which 
I. 


S2  ELEMENTS  OF  tHE  PHlLOSOPHr 

are  commonly  referred  to  impulfe,  arife  from  a  pow- 
er of  repulfion,  extending  to  a  fmall  and  impercept- 
ible diftance  round  every  element  of  matter.  If  this 
do&ine  Ihall  be  confirmed  by  future  fpeculations 
in  phylics,  it  muft  appear  to  be  a  curious  circum- 
ftance  in  the  hiftory  of  fcience,  that  philofophers 
have  been  fo  long  occupied  in  attempting  to  trace  all 
the  phenomena  of  matter,  and  even  fome  of  the 
phenomena  of  mind,  to  a  general  facb,  vi^hich,  upon 
an  accurate  examination,  is  found  to  have  no  exig- 
ence.—I  do  not  make  this  obfervation  with  a  view 
to  depreciate  the  labours  of  thefe  philofophers  ;  for, 
although  the  fyftem  of  Bofcovich  were  completely 
eftabliihed,  it  would  not  diminifh,  in  the  fmalieft  de- 
gree, the  value  of  thofe  phy Ileal  inquiries,  which 
have  proceeded  on  the  common  hypothefis,  with  re- 
fpe^t  to  impulfe.  The  laws  which  regulate  the  com- 
munication of  motion,  in  the  cafe  of  apparent  con- 
tad,  are  the  moft  general  fads  we  obferve  among 
the  terreftrial  phenomena ;  and  they  are,  of  all  phyf- 
ical  events,  thole  which  are  the  moft  familiar  to  us, 
from  our  earlieft  infancy.  It  was  therefore  not  on- 
ly natural  but  proper,  that  philofophers  fhould  be- 
gin their  phyfical  inquiries,  with  attempting  to  re- 
fer to  thefe,  (which  are  the  moft  general  laws  of  na- 
ture, expofed  to  the  examination  of  our  fenfes,)  the 
particular  appearances  they  wifhed  to  explain.  And, 
if  ever  the  theory  of  Bofcovich  fhould  be  complete- 
ly eftablifhed,  it  will  have  no  other  effect,  than  to  re- 
folve  thefe  laws  into  fome  principle  ftill  more  general, 
without  affeding  the  folidity  of  the  common  doc- 
trine, fo  far  as  it  goes. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND-  .jS'3 

SECTION  III. 
Of  Dr.  Reid's  Speculations  on  the  Subjed  of  Perception^ 

IT  was  chiefly  in  confequence  of  the  fceptical  con- 
clufions  which  Biihop  Berkeley  and  Mr.  Hume  had 
deduced  from  the  ancient  theories  of  perception, 
that  Dr.  Reid  was  led  to  call  them  in  queftion  ;  and 
he  appears  to  me  to  have  ihewn,'in  the  moft  fatisfac- 
tory  manner,  not  only  that  they  are  perfectly  hy- 
pothetical, but  that  the  fuppolitions  they  involve, 
are  abfurd  and  impoflible.  His  reafonings,  on  this 
part  of  our  conftitution,  undoubtedly  form  the  moft 
important  acceflion  which  the  philofophy  of  the  hu- 
man mind  has  received  fmce  the  time  of  Mr.  Locke. 

But  although  Dr.  Reid  has  been  at  nmv.h  pains  to 
overturn  the  old  ideal  fyftem,  he  has  not  ventured 
to  fubftitute  any  hypothefis  of  his  own  in  its  place. 
And,  indeed,  he  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the 
limits  prefcribed  to  our  philofophical  inquiries^  to 
think  of  indulging  his  curiofity,  in  fuch  unprofita- 
ble fpeculations.  All,  therefore,  that  he  is  to  be 
underftood  as  aiming  at,  in  his  inquiries  concerning 
our  perceptive  powers  is,  to  give  a  precife  ftate  of 
the  fad,  diverted  of  all  theoretical  expreflions  ;  in 
order  to  prevent  phLlofophers  from  impofing  on 
themfelves  any  longer,  by  words  without  meaning  ; 
and  to  extort  from  them  an  acknowledgment,  that, 
with  refpetl  to  the  procefs  of  nature  in  perception, 
they  are  no  lefs  ignorant  than  the  vulgar. 

According  to  this  view  of  Dr.  Reid*s  reafonings, 
on  the  fubjec^  of  perception,  the  purpofe  to  which 
they  are  fubfervient  may  appear  to  fome  to  be  of 
no  very  confiderable  importance ;  but  the  truth  is, 
that  one  of  the  moft  valuable  effects  of  genuine  phi- 
lofophy, is  to  remind  us  of  the  limited  powers  of 
the  human  underftanding ;  and  to  revive  thofe  nat- 


S'if  ELEMENTS  OF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

ural  feelings  of  wonder  and  admiration,  at  the  fpec- 
tacle  of  the  univerfe,  which  are  apt  to  languifti,  in 
confequence  of  long  familiarity.  The  moft  profound 
difcoveries  which  are  placed  within  the  reach  of  our 
refearches  lead  to  a  confeffion  of  human  ignorance  ; 
for,  while  they  flatter  the  pride  of  man,  and  increafe 
his  power,  by  enabUng  hi  in  to  trace  the  fimple  and 
beautiful  laws  by  which  phyfical  events  are  regula- 
ted, they  call  his  attention,  at  the  fame  time,  to  thofe 
general  and  ultimate  fads  which  bound  the  narrow 
circle  of  his  knowledge  ;  and  which,  by  evincing  to 
him  the  operation  of  powers,  whofe  nature  muft  for 
ever  remain  unknown,  ferve  to  remind  him  of  the 
infufficiency  of  his  faculties  to  penetrate  the  fecrets 
of  the  univerfe.  Wherever  we  dired  our  in  quiries ; 
whether  to  the  anatomy  and  phyfiology  of  animals, 
to  the  growth  of  vegetables,  to  the  chemical  attrac- 
tions and  repulfions,  or  to  the  motions  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies  ;  we  perpetually  perceive  the  effects  of 
powers  which  cannot  belong  to  matter.  To  a  cer- 
tain length  we  are  uble  to  proceed  ;  but  in  every 
refearch,  we  meet  with  a  line,  which  no  induflry 
nor  ingenuity  can  pafs.  It  is  a  line  too,  which  is 
marked  with  fulhcient  diflinclnefs  ;  and  which  no 
man  now  thinks  of  pafling,  who  has  jufl  views  of 
the  nature  and  object  of  philofophy.  It  forms  the 
feparation  between  that  field  which  falls  under  the 
furvey  of  the  phyfical  inquirer,  and  that  unknown 
region,  of  which,  though  it  was  neceflary  that  we 
fliould  be  affured  of  the  exiftence,  in  order  to  lay  a 
foundation  for  the  doctrines  of  natural  theology,  it 
hath  not  pleafed  the  Author  of  the  univerfe  to  re- 
veal to  us  the  wonders,  in  this  infant  flate  of  our 
being.  It  was,  in  fad,  chiefly  by  tracing  out  this 
line,  that  Lord  Bacon  did  fo  much  fervice  to  fcience. 
Befides  this  effed,  which  is  common  to  all  our 
phiiofophical  purfuits,  of  ia.preffing  the  mind  wirli 
a  fenfe  of  that  myflerious  agency,  cr  efficiency,  into 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  85 

wLich  general  laws  mufl  be  refolved  ;  they  have  a 
tendency,  in  many  cafes,  to  counteracl  the  influence 
of  habit,  in  weakening  thofe  emotions  of  wonder 
and  of  curiofity,  w  hich  the  appearances  of  nature 
are  fo  admirably  fitted  to  excite.  For  this  pnrpofe, 
it  is  neceilliry,  either  to  lead  the  attention  to  fads 
which  are  calculated  to  ftrike  by  their  novelty,  or 
to  prefent  familiar  appearances  in  a  new  light ;  and 
fuch  are  the  obvious  eifccls  of  philofophical  inquiries  ; 
fometimes  extending  our  views  to  objecls  which  are 
removed  from  vulgar  obfervation  ;  and  fometimes 
correding  our  firft  apprehenfions  with  refpect  to  or- 
dinary events. — The  communication  of  motion  by 
impulfe,  (as  I  already  hinted,)  is  as  unaccountable  as 
any  phenomenon  we  know  ;  and  yet,  moil  men  are 
difpofed  to  condder  it,  as  a  fact  which  does  not  re- 
fult  from  will,  but  from  necefilty.  To  fuch  men,  it 
may  be  ufeful  to  dired  their  attention  to  the  uni- 
verfal  law  of  gravitation  ;  which,  although  not  more 
wonderful  in  itfelf,  than  the  common  effeds  of  im- 
pulfe, is  more  fitted,  by  its  novelty,  to  awaken  their 
attention,  and  to  excite  their  curiofity.  If  the  theo- 
ry of  Bofcovich  (liould  ever  be  cftablifhed  on  a  fat- 
isfadory  foundation,  it  would  have  this  tendency 
in  a  Hill  more  remarkable  degree,  by  teaching  us 
that  the  communication  of  motion  by  impulfe, 
(which  we  are  apt  to  confider  as  a  neceflary  truth,) 
has  no  exiftence  whatever  ;  and  that  every  cafe  in 
whicli  it  appears  to  our  fenfes  to  take  place,  is  a  phe- 
nomenon no  lefs  inexplicable,  than  that  principle  of 
attriclion  which  binds  together  the  mod  remote 
parts  of  the  univerfe. 

If  fuch,  however,  be  the  effects  of  our  philofophi- 
cal purfuits  when  fuccefsfully  conducted,  it  mull  be 
confefled  that  the  tendency  of  imperfcci  or  errone- 
ous theories  is  widely  different.  By  a  fpecious  fo- 
lution  of  infuperable  dilliculties,  they  fo  dazzle  and 
bewilder  the  underflanding,  as,  at  once,  to  prevent 


86  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

US  from  advancing,  with  fteadinefs,  towards  the  lim- 
it of  human  knowledge  ;  and  from  perceiving  the 
exiftence  of  a  region  beyond  it,  into  which  pliilofo- 
phy  is  not  permitted  to  enter.  In  fuch  cafes,  it  is 
the  bufinefs  of  genuine  fcience  to  unmaik  the  impof- 
ture,  and  to  point  out  clearly,  both  to  the  learned 
and  to  the  vulgar,  what  reafon  can,  and  what  (he 
cannot,  accomplifti.  This,  I  apprehend,  has  been 
done,  with  refped  to  the  hiftory  of  our  perceptions, 

in  the  mod  fatisfactory  manner,  by  Dr.  Reid. ■ 

"When  a  perfon  little  accuftomed  to  metaphyfical 
fpeculations  is  told,  that,  in  the  cafe  of  volition, 
there  are  certain  invifible  fluids,  propagated  from 
the  mind  to  the  organ  which  is  moved  ;  and 
that,  in  the  cafe  of  perception,  the  exiftence  and 
qualities  of  the  external  object  are  made  known  to 
us  by  means  of  fpecies,  or  phantafms,  or  images, 
which  are  prefent  to  the  mind  in  the  fenforium  ;  he 
is  apt  to  conclude,  that  the  intercourfe  between 
mind  and  matter  is  much  lefs  myfterious  than  he  had 
fuppofed  ;  and  that,  although  thefe  expreflions  may 
not  convey  to  him  any  very  diftincl  meaning,  their 
import  is  perfectly  underftood  by  philofophers.  It 
is  now,  I  think,  pretty  generally  acknowledged  by 
phyiiologifts,  that  the  influence  of  the  will  over  the 
body,  is  a  myftery  which  has  never  yet  been  unfold- 
ed ;  but,  lingular  as  it  m.iy  appear.  Dr.  Reid  was 
the  firft  perfon  who  had  courage  to  lay  completely 
afide  all  the  common  hypothetical  lang;uas;e  concern- 
ing perception,  and  to  exhibit  the  difficulty  in  all  its 
magnitude,  by  a  plain  ftatement  of  the  facl.  To 
what  then,  it  may  be  aflced,  does  this  ftatement 
amount  ? — Merely  to  this  ;  that  the  mind  is  fo  for- 
med, that  certain  imprefiions  produced  on  our  or- 
gans of  fenfe  by  external  objecls,  are  followed  by 
correfpondent  fenfations  ;  and  that  thefe  fenfations, 
(which  have  no  more  refemblance  to  the  qualitievS  of 
aiatter,  than  the  words  of  a  language  have  to  thp 


•  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIN0.  S7 

things  they  denote,)  are  followed  by  a  perception  of 
fhe  exiilence  and  qualities  of  the  bodies  by  which 
the  imprellions  are  made  ;  that  all  the  fteps  of  this 
procefs  are  equally  incomprehenfible  ;  and  that,  for 
any  thing  we  can  prove  to  the  contrary,  the  con- 
nexion between  the  fenfation  and  the  perception,  as 
well  as  that  between  the  impreflion  and  the  fenfation, 
may  be  both  arbitrary  :  that  it  is  therefore  by  no 
means  impoilible,  that  our  fenfations  may  be  merely 
the  occafions  on  which  the  correfpondent  perceptions 
are  excited  ;  and  that  at  any  rate,  the  confideration 
of  thefe  fenfations,  which  are  attributes  of  mind,  can 
throw  no  light  on  the  manner  in  which  we  acquire 
our  knowledge  of  the  exiftence  and  qualities  of  bo- 
dy.  From  this  view  of  the  fubjecl,  it  follows,  that 
it  is  external  objeds  themfelves,  and  not  any  fpecies 
or  images  of  thefe  obje(5ls,  that  the  mind  perceives  ; 
and  that  although,  by  the  conftitution  of  our  nature, 
certain  fenfations  are  rendered  the  conftant  antece- 
dents of  our  perceptions,  it  is  juft  as  difficult  to  ex- 
plain how  our  perceptions  are  obtained  by  their 
means,  as  it  would  be,  upon  the  fuppofition,  that 
the  mind  were  all  at  once  infpired  with  them,  with- 
out any  concomitant  fenfations  whatever. 

Thefe  remarks  are  general,  and  apply  to  all  our 
various  perceptions  ;  and  they  evidently  flrike  at 
the  root  of  all  the  common  theories  upon  the  fub- 
jed.  The  laws,  however,  which  regulate  thefe  per- 
ceptions, are  different  in  the  cafe  of  the  different  fen- 
fes,  and  form  a  very  curious  object  of  philofophical 
inquiry. — Thofe,  in  particular,  which  regulate  the 
acquired  perceptions  of  fight,  lead  to  feme  very  in- 
terefling  and  important  fpeculations  ;  and,  I  think, 
have  never  yet  been  explained  in  a  manner  com- 
pletely fatisfoclbry.  To  treat  of  them  in  detail,  does 
not  fall  under  the  plan  of  this  work ;  but  I  fliall  have 
occafion  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  them,  in  tlie 
chapter  on  Conception. 


88  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

In  oppofltion  to  what  I  h;ive  here  obferved  on  the 
inaportance  of  Dr.  Reid's  fpecuLitions  concerning 
our  perceptive  powers,  I  am  fenfibie  it  may  be  ur- 
ged, that  they  amount  merely  to  a  negative  difcovery  ; 
and  it  is  poflible,  that  fome  may  even  be  forward  to 
remark,  that  it  was  unneceilary  to  employ  fo  much 
Jabor  and  ingenuity  as  he  has  done,  to  overthrow 
an  hypothecs  of  which  a  plain  account  would  have 
been  a  fufficient  refutation. — To  luch  perfons,  I 
would  beg  leave  to  fuggeft,  that,  although,  in  confe- 
quenceof  the  jufter  .views  in  pneumatology,  which 
BOW  begin  to  prevail,  (chiefly,  I  believe,  in  confe- 
quence  of  Dr.  Reid's  writings,)  the  ideal  fyflem 
may  appear  to  many  readers  unphilofophical  and 
puerile  ;  yet  the  cafe  was  very  different  w^hen  this 
author  entered  upon  his  inquiries  :  and  I  may  even 
venture  to  add,  that  few  politive  difcoveries,  in  the 
whole  hiftory  of  fcience,  can  be  mentioned,  w^hich 
found  a  jufter  claim  to  literary  reputation,  than  to 
have  detected,  fo  cle2.rly  and  unanf\^'erably,  the 
fallacy  of  an  hypothelis,  which  has  defcended  to  us 
from  the  earlieft  ages  of  philofophy  :  and  which,  in 
modern  times,  has  not  only  ferved  to  Berkeley  and 
Hume  as  the  bafis  of  their  fceptical  fyilems,  but  was 
adopted  as  an  indisputable  iratii  by  Locke,  bv 
Clarke,  and  by  Newton. 

SECTION  IV. 

Of  the  Origin  of  our  Knowledge. 

THE  philofophers  who  endeavored  to  explain  the 
operations  of  the  human  mind  by  the  theory  ot  iaeas, 
and  who  took  for  grartfd,  that  in  every  exertion  of 
thought  there  exiiis  ii)  ihe  mind  fomeobjcddii  incl 
from  the  thinking  fubltance  were  naturally  led  u>  in- 
quire whence  thele  ideas  derive  their  origin ; 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  89 

particular,  whether  they  are  conveyed  to  the  mind 
from  without  by  means  of  the  fenfes,  or  from  part  of 
its  original  furniture  ? 

Wich  refpect  to  this  queflion,  the  opinions  of  the 
ancients  were  various  ;  but  as  the  influence  of  thefe 
opinions  on  the  prevailing  fystems  of  the  prefent  age 
is  not  very  confiderable,  it  is  not  neceiliry,  for  any  of 
the  purpofes  I  have  in  view  in  this  work,  to  conlid- 
er  them  particularly.  The  moderns,  too,  have  been 
much  divided  on  the  fubjecl  ;  ft)me  holding  with 
Des  Cartes,  that  the  mind  is  furniihed  with  certain 
innate  ideas  ;  others,  with  Mr.  Locke,  that  all  our 
ideas  may  be  traced  from  fenfation  and  reflection  ; 
and  many,  (efpecially  among  the  later  metaphyficians 
in  France,)  that  they  may  be  all  traced  from  fenfa- 
tion alone. 

Of  thefe  theories,  that  of  Mr.  Locke  deferves  more 
particularly  our  attention  ;  as  it  has  ferved  as  the 
bafis  of  moft  of  the  metaphyfical  fyftems  which  have 
appeared  fince  his  time  ;  and  as  the  difference  be- 
tween  it  and  the  theory  which  derives  all  our  ideas 
from  fenfation  alone,  is  rather  apparent  than  real. 

In  order  to  convey  a  juft  notion  of  Mr.  Locke's 
do(5trine  concerning  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  it  is  ne- 
ceflary  to  remark,  that  he  refers  to  fenfation,  all  the 
ideas  which  we  are  fuppofed  to  receive  by  the  exter- 
nal fenfes  ;  our  ideas,  for  example,  of  colours,  pf 
founds,  of  hardnefs,  of  extenfion,  of  motion  ;  and, 
in  fliort,  of  all  the  qualities  and  modes  of  matter  ; 
to  reflectioill  the  ideas  of  our  own  mental  operations 
which  we  derive  from  confcioufnefs  ;  our  ideas,  for 
example,  of  memory,  of  imagination,  of  voHtion,  of 
pleafure,  and  of  pain.  Thefe  two  fources,  according 
to  him,  furnifli  us  with  all  our  fimple  ideas,  and  the 
only  power  which  the  mind  poflcffes  over  them,  is 
to  perform  certain  operations,  in  the  way  of  com- 
polition,  abftradi()n,generalifition.  &c  on  the  mare- 
rials  which  it  thus  colleds  in  the  courfe  of  its  experi- 
M 


.90  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ence.  The  laudable  defire  of  Mr.  Locke,  to  intro- 
duce precifion  and  perfpicuity  into  metaphyfical 
fpeculations,  and  his  anxiety  to  guard  the  mind 
againft  error  in  general,  naturally  prepc  ffefled  him 
in  favor  of  a  dodrine,  which,  when  compared  with 
thofe  of  his  predeceflbrs,  was  intelligible  and  fimple  ; 
and  which,  by  fuggefting  a  method,  apparently  eafy 
and  palpable,  of  analyfing  our  knowledge  into  its 
elementary  principles,  feemed  to  furnifh  an  antidote 
againft  thofe  prejudices  which  had  been  favoured  by 
the  hypothecs  of  innate  ideas.  It  is  now  a  confid- 
erable  time  fince  this  fundamental  principle  of  Mr. 
Locke's  fyftem  began  to  lofe  its  aut^rity  in  England  j 
and  the  fceptical  conclufions,  whicWit  had  been  em- 
ployed to  fupport  by  fome  later  writers,  furnifhed 
its  opponents  with  very  plaufible  arguments  againft 
it.  The  iate  learned  Mr.  Harris,  in  particular,  fre- 
quently mentions  this  doctrine  of  Mr.  Locke,  and 
always  in  terms  of  high  indignation.  "  Mark,"  (fays 
he,  in  one  paffage,)  "  the  order  cf  things,  according 
*'  to  the  account  of  our  later  metaphyficians.  Firft, 
*'  comes  that  huge  body,  the  fenfible  world.  Then 
"  this,  and  its  attributes,  hegetfenfible  ideas.  Then, 
"  out  of  fenfible  ideas,  by  a  kind  of  lopping  and  pru- 
"  ning,  are  made  ideas  intelligible,  whether  fpecific 
*'  or  general.  Thus,  fliould  they  admit  that  mind 
*'  was  coeval  with  body  ;  yet,  till  body  gave  it  ideas, 
"  and  awakened  its  dormant  powers,  it  could  at  beft 
*'  have  been  nothing  more  than  a  fort  of  dead  capa- 
"  city  ;  for  innate  ideas  it  could  not  po^bly  have 
"  any."  And,  in  another  paffage  :  "  For  my  own 
*'  part,  when  I  read  the  detail  about  fenfation  and  re- 
*'  fledion,  and  am  taught  the  procefs  at  large  how 
*'  my  ideas  are  all  generated,  I  feem  to  view  the  hu- 
"  man  foul,  in  the  light  of  a  crucible,  where  truths 
"  are  produced  by  a  kind  of  logical  chemiftry." 

If  Dr.  Reid's  reafonings  on  the  fubjed:  of  ideas  be 
admitted,  all  thefe  fpeculations  with  refpecl  to  their 

mm 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  51 

origin  fall  to  the  ground  ;  and  the  queftion  to  which 
they  rela'  e,  is  reduced  merely  to  a  queftion  of  facl ; 
concerning  the  occalions  on  which  the  mind  is  Hrft 
le^l  to  form  thofe  fimple  notions  into  which  our 
thoughts  may  be  analyfed,  and  which  may  be  con- 
lidered  as  the  principles  or  elements  of  human 
knowledge  With  refped  to  many  of  thefe  notions, 
this  inquiry  involves  no  difficulty.  No  one,  for  ex- 
ample, can  be  at  a  lofs  to  afcertain  the  occalions  on 
which  the  notions  of  colours  and  founds  are  fi^-ft  for- 
med by  the  mind  :  for  thefe  notions  are  confined  to 
individuals  who  are  pofleffed  of  particular  fenfes,  and 
cannot,  by  any  combination  of  words,  be  conveyed 
to  thofe  who  never  enjoyed  the  ufe  of  them.  The 
hiftory  of  our  notions  of  extenfion  and  figure,  (which 
may  be  fuggefted  to  the  mind  by  the  exercife  either 
of  fight  or  of  touch,)  is  not  altogether  fo  obvious  ; 
and  accordingly,  it  has  been  the  fubjecl  of  various 
controverfies.  To  trace  the  origin  of  thefe,  and  of 
our  other  iimple  notions  with  refped:  to  the  qualities 
of  matter  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  defcribe  the  oc- 
calions on  which,  by  the  laws  of  our  nature,  they 
are  fuggefted  to  the  mind,  is  one  of  the  leading  ob- 
jects of  Dr.  Reid's  inquiry,  in  his  analyfis  of  our  ex- 
ternal fenfes  ;  in  which  he  carefully  avoids  every  hy- 
pothefis  with  refpecl  to  the  inexplicable  phenomena 
of  perception  and  of  thought,  and  confines  himfelf 
fcrupuloufly  to  a  literal  ftatement  of  fads. — Similar 
inquiries  to  thefe,  may  be  propofed,  concerning  the 
occafions  on  which  we  form  the  notions  of  iime^  of 
motion,  of  number,  of  caufaiion,  and  an  infinite  variety 
of  others.  Thus,  it  has  been  obferved  by  different 
authors,  that  every  perception  of  change  fuggefts  to 
the  mind  the  notion  of  a  caufe,  without  which  that 
change  could  not  have  happened.  ,Dr.  Reid  remarks, 
that,  without  the  faculty  of  memory,  our  perceptive 
powers  could  never  have  led  us  to  form  the  idea  of 
motion,    I  fliall  afterwards  fliew,  in  the  fequel  of  this 


9^  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

work,  that  without  the  fame  faculty  of  memory,  we 
never  could  have  formed  the  notion  of  time  ;  and 
that  without  the  faculty  of  abftradion,  we  could  not 
have  formed  the  notion  of  number. — Such  inquiries, 
with  refpedl  to  the  origin  of  our  knowledge,  are 
curious  and  important ;  and  if  conduced  with  judg- 
ment, they  may  lead  to  the  moft  certain  conclu lions  ; 
as  they  aim  at  nothing  more  than  to  afcertain  fadls, 
which,  although  not  obvious  to  fuperficial  obfervers, 
may  yet  be  difcovered  by  patient  inveftigation. 

From  the  remarks  which  have  been  juft  made  on 
our  notions  of  titne,  of  motion,  and  of  number,  it  is 
evident,  that  the  inquiry  concerning  the  origin  of 
human  knowledge  cannot  poflibly  be  difculTed  at  the 
commencement  of  fuch  a  work  as  this;  but  that  it 
muft  be  refumed  in  different  parts  of  it,  as  thofe  fa- 
culties of  the  mind  come  under  our  view,  with 
which  the  formation  of  our  different  (impie  notiong 
is  conneded. 

With  refped  to  the  general  queftion.    Whether 
all  our  knowledge  niay  be  ultimately   traced  trom 
our  fenfations  ?  1  fiiall  only  obferve  at  prefent,  that 
the  opinion  we  form  concerning  it,  is  of  n^uch  lefs 
cbnfequence  than  is  commonly  fuppofed.     That  the 
mind  cannot,  without  the  groffefl  abfurdity,  be  con- 
fidered  in  the  light  of  a  receptacle  which  is  gradual- 
ly furnifhed  from  without,  by  materials  introduced 
by  the  channel  of  the  fenfes  ;  nor  in  that  of  a  tabula 
rufa.,  upon   which  copies  or  refemblances  of  things 
external  are   imprinted  ;    I  have  already    Ihewn  at 
fuflicient  length.     Although,  therefore,  we  fliould 
acquiefce  in  the  conclufion,  that,  without  our  organs 
of  fenfe,  the  mind  muff  have  remained  deftitute  of 
knowledge,  this  conceilion  could  have  no  tendency 
whatever  to  favour  the  principles  of  materialifm  ;  as 
it  implies   nothing  more  than  that  the  impreffions 
made  on  our  fenies  by  external  objeds,  furniih  the 
Qccafions  on  which  the  mind,  by  the  laws  of  its  con- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  05 

ftitution,  is  led  to  perceive  the  qualities  of  the  mate- 
rial world,  and  to  exert  all  the  different  modifica- 
tions of  thought  of  which  it  is  capable. 

From  the  very  fli.';ht  view  of  the  fubje^t,  howev- 
er,  which  has  been  already  given,  it  is  fufficiently  ev- 
ident, that  this  dodlrine,  which  refers  the  origin  of 
all  our  knowledge  to  the  occa(it)ns  furniflied  by  ferfe, 
mud  be  received  with  many  limitations.  "1  hat  th'-fe 
ideas,  which  Mr.  Locke  calls  ideas  of  refledlion,  (or, 
in  other  words,  the  notions  which  we  form  of  the 
fubje^ts  of  our  own  confcioulnefs,)  are  not  fuggeft- 
ed  to  the  mind  immediately  by  the  fenfations  arif- 
ing  from  the  ufe  of  our  organs  of  perception,  is 
granted  on  all  hands;  and,  therefore,  the  anount 
of  the  doclrine  now  mentioned,  is  nothing  more 
than  this  ;  that  the  firft  occaiions  on  which  our  va- 
rious intellectual  faculties  arc  exercifed,  are  furrifh- 
ed  by  the  impreflions  made  on  our  organs  of  dnie  ; 
and  confequently,  that,  without  thefe  impreflions,  it 
would  have  been  impoffible  for  us  to  arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  our  faculties.  Agreeably  to  this  ex- 
planation of  the  doctrine,  it  may  undoubtedly  be 
faid  with  plaufibility,  (and,  I  am  inclined  to  believe, 
with  truth,)  that  the  occaiions  on  which  all  our  no- 
tions are  formed,  are  furniflied  either  immediately 
or  ultimately  by  fenfe  ;  but,  if  I  am  not  much  mil- 
taken,  this  is  not  the  meaning  which  is  commonly 
annexed  to  the  dodrine,  either  by  its  advocates  or 
their  opponents.  One  thing  at  leaft  is  obvious,  th;it, 
in  this  fenfe,  it  does  not  lead  to  thofe  confequerces 
which  have  interefted  one  party  of  philofophers  in 
its  defence,  and  another  in  its  refutation. 

There  is  another  very  important  confideration  which 
deferves  our  attention  in  this  argument:  that,even  on 
the  fuppofition  that  certain  iir.prelTions  on  our  organs 
of  fenfe  are  neceffary  to  awaken  the  mind  to  a  con- 
fcioufnefs  of  its  own  exiftence,  and  to  give  rife  to  the 
exercife  of  its  various  faculties  j  yet  all  this  might 


y4  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

have  happened,  without  our  having  any  knowledge 
of  the  qualities,  or  even  of  the  exiftence,  of  the  ma- 
terial world.  .  To  facilitate  the  admiflion  of  this  pro- 
pofition,  let  us  liippofe  a  being  formed  in  every  oth- 
er refpecl  like  man  ;  but  pofleffed  of  no  fenfes,  ex- 
cepting thofe  of  hearing  and  fmelling.  I  make  choice 
of  thele  two  fenfes,  becaufe  it  is  obvious,  that  by 
means  of  them  alone  we  never  could  have  arrived 
at  the  knowledge  of  the  primary  qualities  of  matter, 
or  even  of  the  exiftence  of  things  external.  All  that 
we  could  poflibly  have  inferred  from  our  occafional 
fenfations  of  fmell  and  found,  would  have  been,  that 
there  exifted  fome  unknown  caufe  by*' which  they 
were  produced. 

Let  us  fuppofe  then  a  particular  fenfation  to  be  ex- 
cited in  the  mind  of  fuch  a  being.  The  moment 
this  happens,  he  muft  necelTarily  acquire  the  knowl- 
edge of  two  facts  at  once  :  that  of  the  exiftence  of 
the  fenfation  ;  and  that  of  his  own  exiftence^  as  a  fenti- 
ent  being.  After  the  fenfation  is  at  an  end,  he  can 
remember  he  felt  it ;  he  can  conceive  that  he  feels  it  a- 
gain.  If  he  has  felt  a  variety  of  different  fenfations, 
he  can  compare  them  together  in  refpecl  of  the  pleaf- 
ure  or  the  pain  they  have  aff*orded  hini  ;  and  will 
naturally  defire  the  return  of  the  agreeable  fenfations, 
and  be  afraid  oi  the  return  of  thofe  which  were  pain- 
ful. If  the  fenfations  of  fmell  and  found  are  both 
excited  in  his  mind  at  the  fame  time,  he  can  attend 
to  either  of  them  he  chufes,  and  withdraw  his  at- 
tention from  the  other  ;  or  he  can  withdraw  his  at- 
tention from  both,  and  fix  it  on  fome  fenfation  he  has 
felt  formerly.  In  this  manner,  he  might  be  led, 
merely  by  fenfations  exifting  in  his  mind^  and  con- 
veying to  him  no  information  concerning  matter, 
to  exercife  many  of  his  moft  important  faculties  ; 
and  amidft  all  thefe  different  modifications  and  ope- 
rations of  his  mind,  he  would  feel,  with  irrefiftible 
convidion,  that  they  all  belong  to  one  and  the  fame 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  95 

fentient  and  intelligent  being  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
that  they  ar«  all  modifications  and  operations  of 
himfelf. — I  fay  nothing,  at  prefent,  of  the  various 
fimple  notions,  (or  fimple  ideas,  as  they  are  com- 
monly called,)  which  would  arife  in  his  mind ;  for 
example,  the  ideas  of  number^  of  duration^  of  caufe  and 
effeByOiperfonal  identity;  all  of  which,  though  per- 
fedly  unlike  his  fenfati(Mis,  could  not  fail  to  be  fug- 
gefted  by  means  of  them.  Such  a  being,  then,  might 
kn^w  all  that  we  know  of  mind  at  prefent ;  and  as 
his  language  would  be  appropriated  to  mind  folely, 
and  not  borrowed,  by  analogy,  from  material  phe- 
nomena, he  would  even  poffefs  important  advanta- 
ges over  us  in  conducing  the  ftudy  of  pneumatol- 

From  thefe  obfervations  it  fufEciently  appears, 
what  is  the  real  amount  of  the  celebrated  doctrine, 
which  refers  the  origin  of  all  our  knowledge  to  our 
fenfations  ;  and  that,  even  granting  it  to  be  true, 
(which,  for  my  own  part,  I  am  difpofed  to  do,  in  the 
fenfe  in  which  I  have  now  explained  it,)  it  would  by 
no  means  follow  from  it,  that  our  notions  of  the  op- 
erations of  mind,  nor  even  many  of  thofe  notions 
which  are  commonly  fuggefted  to  us,  in  the  jirji  in- 
fiance^  by  the  perception  of  external  objects,  are  ne^ 
cejfarily  fubfequent  to  our  knowledge  of  the  qualities, 
or  even  of  the  exiftence,  of  matter. 

The  remarks  which  I  have  offered  on  this  dodrine 
will  not  appear  fuperfluous  to  thofe  who  recollect 
that,  although  it  has,  for  many  years  paft,  been  a 
fubjed  of  controverfy  in  England,  it  continues  ftill 
to  be  implicitly  adopted  by  the  bell  philofophical 
writers  in  France  ;  and  that  it  has  been  einployed 
by  fome  of  them  to  fupport  the  fyftem  of  material- 
ifm  ;  and  by  others  to  (hew,  that  the  intellectual 
diftin(5tions  between  man  and  brutes,  ariie  entirely 
from  the  differences  in  their  animal  orgimization, 
and  in  their  powers  of  external  perception. 


96  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

CHAPTER  SECOND. 
Of  Attention. 

AVHEN  we  are  deeply  engaged  in  converfation, 
or  occupied  with  any  fpeculation  that  is  interefting 
to  the  mind,  the  furrounding  objedls  either  do  not 
produce  in  us  the  perceptions  they  are  fitted  to  ex- 
cite ;  or  thefe  perceptions  are  inftantly  forgotten. 
A  clock,  for  example,  may  ilrike  in  the  fame  room 
with  US5  without  our  being  able,  next  moment,  to 
recoiled  whether  we  heard  it  or  not. 

In  thefe,  and  limilar  cafes,  I  believe,  it  is  com- 
monly taken  for  granted,  that  we  really  do  not  per- 
ceive the  external  objed.  From  fome  analogous 
fads,  however,  I  am  inclined  to  fufped  that  this 
opinion  is  not  well  founded.  A  perfon  who  falls 
afleep  at  church,  and  is  fuddenly  awaked,  is  unable 
to  recoiled  the  iaft  words  fpoken  by  the  preacher  ; 
or  even  to  recoiled  that  he  was  fpeaking  at  all.  And 
yet,  that  fleep  does  not  fufpend  entirely  the  powers 
of  perception,  may  be  inferred  from  this,  that  if  the 
preacher  were  to  make  a  fudden  paufe  in  his  dif- 
courfe,  every  perfon  in  the  congregation  who  was 
afleep  would  inftantly  awake.  In  this  cafe,  there- 
fore, it  appears,  that  a  perfon  may  be  confcious  of  a 
perception,  without  being  able  afterwards  to  recolr 
led  it. 

Many  other  inllances  of  the  fame  general  fad 
might  be  produced.  When  we  read  a  book,  (efpe- 
cially  in  a  language  which  is  not  perfedly  familiar  to 
us,)  we  muft  perceive  fucccflively  every  different 
letter,  and  muft  afterwards  combine  thefe  letters  in- 
to fylldbles  and  words,  before  we  comprehend  the 
meaning  of  a  fentence.  This  procefs,  however,  pas- 
fes  through  the  mind,  without  leaving  any  trace  in 
the  memory. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  97 

It  has  been  proved  by  optical  writers,  that,  in  per- 
ceiving the  diftances  of  vifible  objects  from  the  eye, 
there  is  a  judgment  of  the  underflanding  antecedent 
to  the  perception.  In  fome  cafes  this  judgment  is 
founded  on  a  variety  of  circumftances  combined  to- 
gether ;  the  conformation  of  the  organ  neceflary 
for  diftind;  vifion  ;  the  incUnation  of  the  optic  axes  ; 
the  diftincVnefs  or  indiftindnefs  of  the  minute  parts 
of  the  objed: ;  the  diftances  of  the  intervening  ob- 
jeds  from  each  other,  and  from  the  eye ;  and,  per- 
haps, on  other  circumftances  befidesthefe  :  and  yet, 
in  confequence  of  our  familiarity  with  fuch  procef- 
fes  from  our  earlieft  infancy,  the  perception  feems 
to  be  inftantaneous  ;  and  it  requires  much  reafon- 
ing,  to  convince  perfons  unaccuftomed  to  philofoph- 
ical  fpeculations,  that  the  fad:  is  otherwife. 

Another  inftance  of  a  ftill  more  familiar  nature, 
may  be  of  ufe  for  the  farther^illuftration  of  the  fame 
fubjed.  It  is  well  known,  that  our  thoughts  do  not 
fucceed  each  other  at  random,  but  according  to  cer- 
tain laws  of  aftbciation,  which  modern  philofophers 
have  been  at  much  pains  to  inveftigate.  It  frequent- 
ly, however,  happens,  particularly  when  the  mind 
is  animated  by  converfation,  that  it  makes  a  fudden 
tranlition  from  one  fubjed:  to  another,  which,  at  firft 
view,  appears  to  be  very  remote  from  it ;  and  that 
it  requires  a  confiderable  degree  of  refledion,  to  ena- 
ble the  perfon  himfelf  by  whom  the  tranfition  was 
made,  to  afcertain  what  were  the  intermediate  ideas. 
A  curious  inftance  of  fuch  a  fudden  tranfition  is 
mentioned  by  Hobbes  in  his  Leviathan.  "  In  a  com- 
*'  pany,*'  (fays  he,)  "  in  which  the  converfation  turn- 
*'  ed  on  tlie  civil  war,  what  could  be  conceived  more 
"  impertinent,  than  for  a  perfon  to  afk  abruptly, 
"  What  was  the  value  of  a  Roman  denarius  ?  On  a 
"  little  rciledion,  however,  I  was  eafily  able  to  trace 
*'  the  train  of  thought  ^a  hich  fuggefted  the  queftion  : 
"  for  the  original  fuljedl  of  diicourie  naturally  in- 
N 


98  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

*'  troduced  the  hiftory  of  the  King,  and  of  the  treach- 
"  ery  of  thofe  who  furrendered  his  perfon  to  his  en- 
''  emies  ;  this  again  introduced  the  treachery  of  Ju- 
*•  das  Ifcariot,  and  the  f^m  of  money  which  he  re- 
*'  ceived  for  his  reward. — And  all  this  train  of  i- 
"  deas,"  fays  Hobbes,  "  palTed  through  the  n)ind  of 
"  the  fpeaker  in  a  twinkling,  in  confequence  of  the 
*'  velocity  of  thought."  It  is  by  no  means  improb- 
able, that  if  the  fpeaker  himfelf  had  been  interroga- 
ted about  the  connection  of  ideas,  which  led  him  a- 
iide  from  the  original  topic  of  difcourfe,  he  would 
have  found  himfelf,  at  firft,  at  a  lofs  for  an  anfwer. 

In  the  inftances  which  have  been  laft  mentioned, 
we  have  alfo  a  proof,  that  a  perception,  or  an  idea, 
which  palTes  through  the  mind,  without  leaving  any 
trace  in  the  memory,  may  yet  ferve  to  introduce 
other  ideas  connected  with  it  by  the  laws  of  aflbcia- 
lion.  Other  proofs  of  this  important  fact  ihall  be 
mentioned  afterwards. 

When  a  perception  or  an  idea  paffes  through  the 
mind,  without  our  being  able  to  recoiled  it  next 
moment,  the  vulgar  themfelves  afcribe  our  want  of 
memory  to  a  want  of  attention.  Thus,  in  the  in- 
ftance  already  mentioned,  of  the  clock,  a  perfon,  up- 
on obferving  that  the  minute  hand  had  juft  paffec 
twelve,  would  naturally  fay,  that  he  did  not  atten( 
to  the  clock  when  it  was  ftriking.  There  feemsj 
therefore,  to  be  a  certain  effort  of  the  mind  upoaj 
which,  even  in  the  judgment  of  the  vulgar,  memo-j 
ry  in  fome  meafure  depends ;  and  which  they  dif- 
tinguifh  by  the  name  of  attention. 

The  connexion  between  attention  and  memory, 
has  been  remarked  by  many  authors.     "  Nee  dubi- 
"  urn  eft,"  (fays  Quindilian,  fpeaking  of  memory,) 
"  quin  plurimum  in  hac  parte,  valeat  mentis  inten- 
*'  tio,  et  velut  acies  luminum  a  profpeclu  rerum  quas| 
"  intuetur  non  averfa.'*     The  fame  obfervation  has 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  i)9 

Ibeen  made  by  Locke,*  and  by  mod  of  the  writers 
on  the  fubjed  of  education. 

But  although  the  conne6lion  between  attention 
and  memory  has  been  frequently  remarked  in  gene- 
ral terms,  I  do  not  recoiled  that  the  power  of  atten- 
tion has  been  mentioned  by  any  of  the  writers  on 
pneumatology,  in  their  enumeration  of  the  faculties 
of  the  mind  f ;  nor  has  it  been  confidered  by  any  one, 
fo  far  as  I  know,  as  of  fufficient  importance  to  de- 
ferve  a  particular  examination.  Helvetius,  indeed, 
in  his  very  ingenious  work,  De  I'Efprit,  has  entitled 
one  of  his  chapters,  De  Tinegale  capacite  d' Atten- 
tion ;  but  what  he  confiders  under  this  article,  is 
chiefly  that  capacity  of  patient  inquiry,  (or  as  he 
calls  it,  une  attentmifuivie^)  upon  which  philofophical 
genius  feems  in  a  great  meafure  to  depend.  He  has 
alfo  remarked,!  with  the  writers  already  mentioned, 
that  the  impreflion  which  any  thing  makes  on  the 
memory,  depends  much  on  the  degree  of  attention 

Memory  depends  much  on  attention  and  repetition."  Locke's 
,  b.  i.  chap.  X. 

t  Some  important  observations  on  the  subject  of  attention  occur 
in  different  parts  of  Dr.  lleid's  writings ;  particularly  in  his  Essays 
on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  p.  62.  ;  and  in  his  Essays  on 
the  Active  Powers  of  Man,  p.  78,  et  seq. — To  this  ingenious  au- 
thor we  are  indebted  for  the  remark,  that  attention  to  things  ex- 
ternal, is  properly  called  vhservatJon;  and  attention  to  the  subjects 
of  our  consciousness,  rejlectlon.  He  has  also  explained  the  causee  of 
the  peculiar  difficulties  which  accompany  this  last  exertion  of  the 
mind,  and  which  form  the  chief  obstacles  to  the  progress  of  pneu- 
matology. I  shall  have  occasion,  in  another  part  of  this  work,  to 
treat  of  habits  of  inattention  in  general,  and  to  suggest  some  prac- 
tical hints  with  respect  to  the  culture  both  of  the  powers  of  obser- 
vation and  reflection.  The  view  which  ]  propose  to  take  of  at- 
tention at  present,  is  extremely  limited  ;  and  is  intended  merely  to 
comprehend  such  general  principles  as  are  necessary  to  prepare  the 
reader  for  the  chapters  which  are  to  follow. 

X  "  C'est  Pattention,  plus  ou  moins  grande,  qui  grave  plus  au 
**  moins  prpfondement  les  objets  dans  la  memoire^." 


]00  ELEMENTS  0?  THB  J>H1LOSOPHY 

we  give  to  it ;  but  he  has  taken  no  notice  of  that  ef- 
fort  which  is  abfohitely  effential  to  the  lovveft  degree 
of  memory.  It  is  this  effort  that  I  propofe  to  con- 
lider  at  prefent  ; — not  thofe  different  degrees  of  at- 
tention which  imprint  things  more  or  lefs  deeply  on 
the  mind,  but  that  ad  or  effort  without  which  we 
hav^e  no  recolieclion  or  memory  whatever. 

With  refpe^l  to  the  nature  of  this  effort,  it  is  per- 
haps impoffible  for  us  to  obtain  much  fatisf action. 
We  often  fpeak  of  greater  and  lefs  degrees  of  atten- 
tion ;  and,  I  believe,  in  thefe  cafes,  conceive  the 
mind  (if  I  may  ufe  the  exprelTion)  to  exert  itfelf 
with  different  degrees  of  energy.  I  am  doubtful, 
however,  if  this  expreflion  conveys  any  diflin^l  mean- 
ing. For  my  own  part,  I  am  inclined  to  fuppofe, 
(though  I  would  by  no  means  be  undorflood  to 
^eak  with  confidence,)  that  it  is  effential  to  memo- 
ry, that  the  perception  or  the  idea  that  we  would 
wifh  to  remember,  fliould  remain  in  the  mind  for  a 
certain  fpace  of  time,  and  fhould  be  contemplated 
by  it  exclufively  of  every  thing  elfe  ;  and  that  atten- 
tion  confiits  partly  (perhaps  entirely)  in  the  effort 
of  the  mind,  to  detain  the  idea  or  the  perception, 
and  to  exclude  the  other  objeds  that  folicit  its  no- 
tice. 

Notwithflanding,  however,  the  difficulty  of  afcer- 
taining,  in  what  this  ad:  of  the  mind  confifls,  every 
perfon  mufl  be  fatisfied  of  its  reality  from  his  own 
conicioufnefs  ;  and  of  its  effential  connexion  with 
the  power  of  memory.  I  have  already  mentioned 
feveral  inflances  of  ideas  pafling  through  the  mind, 
without  our  being  able  to  recollecfc  them  next  mo- 
ment. Thefe  inllances  were  produced,  merely  to 
illuftrate  the  meaning  I  annex  to  the  word  atten- 
tion ;  and  to  recall  to  the  recolledion  of  the  reader, 
a  few  flriking  cafes,  in  which  the  poflibility  of  our 
carrying  on  a  procef s  of  thought,  which  we  are  una- 
ble  to  attend  to  at  the  time,  or  to  remember  after- 


OP  ttiE  HUMAN  MIND.  101 

wards,  is  acknowledged  in  the  received  fyftems  of 
philofophy.  I  (hall  now  mention  fome  other  phe- 
nomena, which  appear  to  me  to  be  very  iimilar  to 
thefe,  and  to  be  explicable  in  the  fame  manner  ;  al- 
though they  have  commonly  been  referred  to  very 
different  principles. 

The  wonderful  effed:  of  pra6lice  in  the  formation 
of  habits,  has  been  often,  and  juftly,  taken  notice  of, 
as  one  of  the  moft  curious  circumftances,  in  the  hu- 
man conftitution.  A  mechanical  operation,  for  ex« 
ample,  which  we  at  firft  performed  with  the  utmoft 
difficulty,  comes,  in  time,  to  be  lo  familiar  to  us, 
that  we  are  able  to  perform  it  without  the  fmalleft 
danger  of  miftake  ;  even  while  the  attention  ap- 
pears to  be  completely  engaged  with  other  fubjecls. 
The  truth  feems  to  be,  that  in  confequence  of  the 
aflbciation  of  ideas,  the  different  fleps  of  the  procefs 
prefent  themfelves  fucceflively  to  the  thoughts, 
without  any  recollection  on  our  part,  and  with  a 
degree  of  rapidity  proportioned  to  the  length  of  our 
experience  ;  fo  as  to  fave  us  entirely  the  trouble  of 
hefitation  and  reflection,  by  giving  us  every  moment 
a  precife  and  fteady  notion  of  the  effed  to  be  pro- 
duced.* 

In  the  cafe  of  fome  operations  which  are  very  fa- 
miliar to  us,  we  find  ourfelves  unable  to  attend  to, 
or  to  recollect,  the  a<51:s  of  th^  will  by  which  they 
were  preceded  ;  and  accordingly,  fome  philofophers 
of  great  eminence  have  called  in  queflion  the  exift- 
ence  of  fuch  volitions  ;  and  have  reprefented  our 
habitual  adions  as  involuntary  and  mechanical.    But 

*  I  do  not  mean  by  this  observation,  to  call  in  question  the  ef. 
fects  which  the  practice  of  the  mechanical  arts  has  on  the  muscles 
of  the  body.  These  are  as  indisputable  as  its  effects  on  the  mind. 
A  man  who  has  been  accustomed  to  write  with  his  right  hand,  can 
write  better  with  his  left  hand,  than  another  who  never  practised 
the  art  at  all  ;  but  he  cannot  write  so  well  with  his  left  hand  &s 
with  his  right.  —The  effects  of  practice,  therefore,  it  should  seem, 
ire  produced  partly  on  the  mind,  and  partly  on  the  body. 


i02  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

furely  the  circumftance  of  our  inability  to  recolle£l 
our  volitions,  does  not  authoriCc  us  to  difpute  their 
poffibility  ;  any  more  than  our  inability  to  attend 
to  the  procefs  of  the  mind,  in  eftimating  the  diftance 
of  an  objecl:  from  the  eye,  authorifes  us  to  af- 
firm that  the  perception  is  inftantaneous.  Nor  does 
it  add  any  force  to  the  objection  to  urge,  that  there 
are  inftances  in  which  we  fmd  it  diflicult,  or  per- 
haps impolTible,  to  check  our  habitual  actions  by  a 
contrary  volition.  For  it  mufi:  be  remembered,  that 
this  contrary  volition  does  not  remain  with  us  ftead- 
ily  during  the  whole  operation  ;  but  is  merely  a 
general  intention  or  refolution,  which  is  baniflied 
from  the  m  nd,  as  foon  as  the  occafion  prefents  it- 
felf,  with  which  the  habitual  train  of  our  tlioughts 
and  volitions  is  afTociated.* 

It  may  indeed  be  faid,  that  thefe  obfervations  on- 
ly prove  thepoflibility  that  our  habitual  actions  may 
be  voluntary.  But  if  this  be  admitted,  nothing  more 
can  well  be  required  ;  for  furely,  if  thefe  phenom- 
ena are  clearly  explicable  from  the  known  and 
acknowledged  laws  of  the  human  mind,  it  would  be 
unphilofophical  to  devife  a  new  principle,  on  pur- 
pose to  account  for  them.  The  doctrine,  therefore, 
which  I  have  laid  down  with  refpect  to  the  nature 

*  The  solution  of  this  difficulty,  which  is  given  by  Dr.  Porter- 
fieldjis  somewhat  curious. 

"  Such  is  the  power  of  custom  and  habit,  that  many  actions, 
"  which  are  no  doubt  voluntary,  and  proceed  from  owr  mind,  are 
**  in  certain  circumstances  rendered  necessary,  so  as  to  appear  alto- 
**  gether  mechanical,  and  independent  of  our  wills  ;  but  it  does  not 
•*  from  thence  follow,  that  ov  mind  is  not  concerned  in  such  mo- 
**  tions,  but  only  that  it  has  imposed  upon  itself  a  law,  whereby  it 
"  regulates  and  governs  them  to  the  greatest  advantage.  In  all  this, 
"  there  is  nothing  of  intrinsical  necessity  ;  the  mind  is  at  absolute 
'*  liberty  to  act  as  it  pleases ;  but  being  a  wise  agent,  it  cannot 
**  chuse  but  to  act  in  conformity  to  this  law,  by  reason  of  the  utility 
"  and  advantage  that  arises  from  this  way  of  acting." 

Treatise  on  the  Eye,  vol.  ii.  p,  IT 


I 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  105 

of  habits,  is  by  no  means  founded  on  hypothefis,  as 
has  been  objected  to  me  by  fome  of  my  friends  ;  but, 
on  the  contrary,  the  charge  of  hypothecs  falls  on 
thofe  who  attempt  to  explain  them,  by  faying  that 
they  are  mechanical  or  automatic  ;  a  dodrine  which, 
if  it  is  at  all  intelligible,  muft  be  underftood  as  im- 
plying the  exiftence  of  fome  law  of  our  conttitution, 
which  has  been  hitherto  unobferved  by  philofophers  ; 
and  to  which,  I  believe,  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  any 
thing  analogous  in  our  conftitution. 

In  the  foregoing  obfervations,  I  have  had  in  view 
a  favourite  doctrine  of  Dr.  Hartley's  ;  which  has 
been  maintained  alfo  of  late  by  a  much  higher  au- 
thority, I  mean  Dr.  Reid. 

"  Habit"*  (fays  this  ingenious  author)  "  differs 
"  from  inftindt,  not  in  its  nature,  but  in  i:s  origin  ; 
*'  the  laft  being  natural,  the  firil  acquired.  Both 
"  operate  without  will  or  intention,  without  thought, 
*'  and  therefore  may  be  called  mecanical  principles.** 
In  another  paffage,t  he  exprefles  hinifeif  thus  ;  "  I 
*'  conceive  it  to  be  a  part  of  our  conftitution,  that 
**  what  we  have  been  accuftomed  to  do,  we  acquire 
*'  not  only  a  facility  but  a  pronenefs  to  do  on  like 
"  occafions ;  fo  that  it  requires  a  particular  will  or 
"  effort  to  forbear  it,  but  to  do  it  requires,  %rory  often, 
«  no  will  at  all." 

The  fame  dodrine  is  laid  down  Hill  more  explicit- 
ly by  Dr.  Hartley. 

"  Suppofc,"  (fays  he,)  "  a  perfon  who  has  a  perfeft- 
"  ly  voluntary  command  over  his  fingers,  to  begin  to 
"  learn  to  play  on  the  harpfichord.  The  firlt  ftep  is 
*'  to  move  his  fingers  from  key  to  key,  with  a  flow 
*'  motion,  looking  at  the  notes,  and  exerting  an  ex- 
"  prefs  act  of  volition  in  every  motion.  By  degrees 
'  tlie  motions  ding  to  one  another,  and  to  the  inv 

*  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man,  p.  128. 
t  Ibid.' p.  130. 


104  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHULOSOPHV      ' 

"  preffions  of  the  notes,  in  the  way  of  aflbciation,  fo 
"  often  mentioned,  the  acls  of  volition  growing  lefs 
"  and  lefs  exprefs  all  the  time,  till  at  laft  they  become 
"  evanefcent  and  imperceptible.  For  an  expert  per- 
"  former  will  play  from  notes,  or  ideas  laid  up  in 
"  the  memory,  and  at  the  fame  time  carry  on  a  quite 
«  different  train  of  thoughts  in  his  mind  ;  or  even 
"  hold  a  converfiuion  with  another.  Whence  we 
"  may  conclude,  that  there  is  no  intervention  of  the 
*•  idea,  or  ftate  of  mind,  called  Will.***  Cafes  of 
this  fort,  Hartley  calls  "  tranfitions  of  voluntary  ac- 
"  tions  into  automatic  ones.'* 

I  cannot  help  thinking  it  more  philofophlcal   tCf 
fuppofe,  that  thofe  actions  which  are  originally  vol- 
untary, always  continue  fo  ;  although,  in  the  cafe  of 
operations  which  are  become  habitual  in  confequence 
of  long  practice,  we  may  not  be  able  to  recollect  every 
different  volition.     Thus,  in  the  cafe  of  a  performer 
on  the  harpfichord,  I  apprehend,  that  there  is  an  aft 
of  the  will  preceding  every  motion  of  every  finger, 
although  he  may  not  be  able  to  recolle6t  thefe  voli- 
tions afterwards  ;  and  although  he  may,  during  the 
time  of  his  performance,  be  employed  in  carrying  on 
a  feparate  train  of  thought.     For,  it  muft  be  ren  ark- 
ed,  that  the  moft  rapid  performer  can,  when  he  piea- 
fes,  play  fo  Howly,  as  to  be  able  to  attend  to,  and  to 
recoiled,  every  feparate  aft  of  his  will  in  the  various 
movements  of  his  fingers  ;  and  he  can  gradually  ac- 
celerate the  rate  of  his  execution,  till  he  is  unable  to 
recolleft  thefe  afts.     Now,  in  this  inftance,  ore  o< 
two  fuppolitions  mufl  be  made  ;  the  one  is,  that  th^ 
operations  in  the  two  cafes  are  carried  on  precifei] 
in  the  fame  manner,  and  differ  only  in  the  degree  oi 
rapidity  ;  and  that  when  this  rapidity  exceeds  a  cer^ 
tain  rate,  the  afts  of  the  will  are  too  monu  r  tary  to 
leave  any  impreflion  on  the  memory. — The  other  is, 

*  Vol.  i.  p.  108,  109.  .. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  J 05 

that  when  the  rapidity  exceeds  a  certain  rate,  the 
operation  is  taken  entirely  out  of  our  hands  ;  and 
is  carried  on  by  fome  unknown  power,  of  the  nature 
of  which  we  are  as  ignorant,  as  of  the  caufe  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  or  of  the  motion  of  the  in- 
teftines.*  The  laft  fuppofition  feems  to  me  to  be 
fomewhat  fimilar  tcT  that  of  a  man  who  fhould  main- 
tain, that,  although  a  body  projected  with  a  mode- 
rate velocity,  is  leen  to  pafs  through  all  the  interme- 
diate fpaces  in  moving  from  one  place  to  another, 
yet  we  are  not  intitled  to  conclude,  that  this  happens 
when  the  body  moves  fo  quickly  as  to  become  invis- 
ible to  the  eye.  The  former  fuppofition  is  fupp;)rt- 
ed  by  the  analogy  of  many  other  facts  in  our  confti- 
tution.  Of  fome  of  thefe,  I  have  already  taken  no- 
tice  ;  and  it  would  be  eafy  to  add  to  the  number. — 
An  expert  accountant,  for  example,  can  fum  up,  al- 
moft  with  a  iingle  glance  of  his  eye,  a  long  column 
of  figures.  He  can  tell  the  fum,  with  unerring 
certainty  j  while,  at  the  fame  time,  he  is  unable  to 
recoiled  any  one  of  the  figures  of  which  that  fum  h 
compofed ;  and  yet  nobody  doubts,  that  each  of  thefe 
figures  has  paffed  through  his  mind,  or  fuppofes, 

*  This  seems  to  have  been  the  opinion  of  Bishop  Berkeley,  whose 
doctrine  concerning  the  nature  of  our  habitual  actions,  coincides 
with  that  6f  the  two  philosophers  already  quoted.  "  It  must  be 
**  owned,  we  are  not  conscious  of  the  systole  and  diastole  of  the 
**  heart,  or  the  nnotion  of  the  diaphragm.  It  may  not,  neverthe- 
"  less,  be  thence  inferred,  that  imknowing  nature  can  act  regularly 
«  as  well  as  ourselves.  The  true  inference  is,  that  the  self-think- 
•<  ing  individual,  or  human  person,  is  not  the  real  author  of  those 
"  natural  motions.  And,  in  fact,  no  man  blames  himself,  if  they 
**  are  wrong,  or  values  himself,  if  they  are  right.  The  same  may 
"  be  said  of  the  fingers  of  a  musician,  which  some  object  to  be 
"  moved  by  habit,  which  understands  not ;  it  being  evident  that 
"  what  is  done  by  rule,  must  proceed  from  something  that  under- 
"  stands  the  rule  ;  therefore,  if  not  from  the  musician  himself, 
*'  from  some  other  active  intelligence  ;  the  same,  perhaps,  which 
**  governs  bees  and  spiders,  and  moves  the  limbs  of  those  who  walk 
"  in  their  sleep."— bee  a  Treatise,  entitled,  Sirisy  p.  123.  2d  edit. 

o 


106  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

that  when  the  rapidity  of  the  procefs  becomes  fo- 
great  that  he  is  unable  to  rccolleft  the  various  fteps 
of  it,  he  obtains  the  refult  by  a  fort  of  infpiration. 
This  lail:  fuppofition  would  be  perfectly  analogous  to 
Dr.  Hartley's  dodrine  concerning  the  nature  of  our 
habitual  exertions. 

The  only  plaufible  objecllon  which,  I  think,  can 
be  offered  to  the  principles  I  have  endeavoured  to 
eftabiifh  on  this  fubjecl,  is  founded  on  the  aftonifh- 
ing,  and  almoft  incredible  rapidity,  they  neceffarily 
fuppofe  in  our  intelledluai  operations.— When  a  per- 
fon,  for  example,  reads  aloud  ;  there  muft,  accord- 
ing to  this  dodrine,  be  a  feparate  volition  preceding 
the  articulation  of  every  letter  ;  and  it  has  been 
found,  by  actual  trial,*  that  it  is  poflible  to  pro- 
nounce about  two  thoufand  letters  in  a  minute.  Is 
it  reasonable  to  fuppofe,  that  the  mind  is  capable  of 
fo  many  different  a<5ts  in  an  interval  of  time  fo  very 
inconfiderable  ? 

With  refpect  to  this  objection,  it  may  be  obferved, 
in  the  firft  place,  that  all  arguments  againft  the  fore- 
going doctrine  with  refpecl  to  our  habitual  exertions, 
in  fo  far  as  they  are  founded  on  the  inconceivable  ra- 
pidity which  they  fuppofe  in  our  intellectual  opera- 
tions, apply  equally  to  the  common  doctrine  con- 
cerning our  perception  of  diftance  by  the  eye.  But 
this  is  not  all.  To  what  does  the  fuppofition  amount, 
which  is  conlidered  as  fo  incredible  ?  Only  to  this, 
that  the  mind  is  fo  formed,  as  to  be  ablle  to  carry  on 
certain  intelledual  proceffes,  in  intervals  of  time  toa 

*  Tncredibili  velocitate  peraguntur  et  repetuntur  musculorum 
contractiones.  Docent  cursus,  praesertim  quadrupedum  ;  vel^ 
lingua,  quae  quadringinta  vocabula,  forte  bis  raille  literas.  expr 
rait,  spatio  temporis  quod  tnin  turn  vocare  solemus,  quamvis  a( 
multas  litras  exprimendas  plures  musculorum  contractiones  requi- 
rantur. 

Conspectus  Meduince  Theoretic^,  Aud.  Jac.  Gregory, 
Mit,  altera,  p«  171. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  107 

Ihort  to  be  cftirnated  by  our  faculties  ;  a  fuppofition 
which,  fo  far  from  being  extravagant,  is  fupported 
by  the  analogy  of  many  of  our  moft  certain  conclu- 
iions  in  natural  philofophy.  The  difcoveries  made 
by  the  microfcope,  have  laid  open  to  our  fenfes  a 
world  of  wonders,  the  exiftence  of  which  hardly  any 
man  would  have  admitted  upon  inferior  evidence  ; 
and  have  gradually  prepared  the  way  for  thofe  phy- 
fical  fpeculations,  which  explain  fome  of  the  moft 
extraordinary  phenomena  of  nature,  by  means  of 
modifications  of  matter  far  too  fubtile  for  the  ex- 
amination of  our  organs.  Why  then  fliould  it  be 
confidered  as  unphilofophical,  after  having  demon- 
ftrated  the  exiftence  of  various  intellectual  procefles 
which  efcape  our  attention  in  confequence  of  their 
rapidity,  to  carry  the  fuppofition  a  little  farther,  in 
order  to  bring  under  the  known  laws  of  the  human 
conftitution,  a  clafs  of  mental  operations,  which  muft 
otherwife  remain  perfedly  inexplicable  ?  Surely,  our 
ideas  of  time  are  merely  relative,  as  well  as  our  ideas 
of  extention  ;  nor  is  there  any  good  reafon  for 
doubting,  that,  if  our  powers  of  attention  and  mem- 
ory were  more  perfe6t  than  they  are,  fo  as  to  give 
us  the  fame  advantage  in  examining  rapid  events, 
which  the  microfcope  gives  for  examining  minute 
portions  of  extenfion,  they  would  enlarge  our  views 
with  refpecl  to  the  intellectual  world,  no  lefs  than 
that  inftrument  has  with  refped  to  the  materirJ. 

It  may  cantribute  to  remove,  ftill  more  completely, 
fome  of  the  fcruples  which  are  naturally  fuggefted 
by  the  foregoing  dodrine,  to  remark,  that,  as  the 
great  ufe  of  attention  and  memory  is  to  enable  us  to 
treafure  up  the  refults  of  our  experience  and  reflec- 
tion for  the  future  regulation  of  our  conduct,  it 
would  have  anfwered  no  purpofe  for  the  author  of 
our  nature  to  have  extended  their  province  to  thofe 
intervals  of  time,  which  we  have  no  occafion  to  efti- 
mate  in  the  common  bufinefe  of  life.     All  the  Intel- 


,     108  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPPIY 

ledual  procefles  I  have  mentioned  are  fubfervient  to 
fome  particular  end,  either  of  perception  or  of  ac- 
tion ;  and  it  would  have  been  perfeAly  fuperfluous, 
if,  after  this  end  were  gained,  the  fteps  which  are  in- 
ftrumental  in  bringing  it  about,  were  all  treafured 
up  in  memory.  Such  a  conftitution  of  our  nature 
would  have  had  no  other  effeS:  but  to  (lore  the  mind 
with  a  variety  of  ufelefs  particulars. 

After  all  I  have  faid,  it  will  perhaps  be  flill  thought, 
that  fome  of  the  reafonings  I  have  offered  are  too 
hypothetical ;  and  it  is  even  poffible,  that  fome  may- 
be difpofed  rather  to  difpute  the  common  theory  of 
vifion,  than  admit  the  conclufions  I  have  endeavored 
to  eftablifli.  To  fuch  readers  the  following  conlid- 
erations  may  be  of  ufe,  as  they  afford  a  more  palpa- 
ble inflance,  than  any  I  have  yet  mentioned,  of  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  thoughts  may  be  trained  by 
practice,  to  fhift  from  one  thing  to  another. 

When  an  equilibrifl  balances  a  rod  upon  his  lin- 
ger, not  only  the  attention  of  his  mind,  but  the  ob- 
fervation  of  his  eye,  is  conftantly  requifite. — It  is  evi- 
dent that  the  part  of  his  body  which  fupports  the 
object  is  never  wholly  at  reft  ;  otherwife  the  objed: 
would  no  more  ftand  upon  it,  than  if  placed  in  the 
fame  poiition  upon  a  table.  The  equilibrift,  there- 
fore, muft  watch,  in  the  very  beginning,  every  incli- 
nation of  the  object  from  the  proper  pofition,  in  or- 
der to  counteract  his  inclination  by  a  contrary  move- 
ment. In  this  manner,  the  object  has  never  time  to 
fall  in  any  one  direction,  and  is  fupported  in  a  way 
fomewhat  analogous  to  that  in  which  a  top  is  fup- 
ported on  a  pivot,  by  being  made  to  fpin  upon"  an 
axis. — That  a  perfon  fliould  be  able  to  do  this  in  the 
cafe  of  a  fingle  object,  is  curious  ;  but  that  he  fhould 
be  able  to  balance  in  the  fame  way,  two,  or  three, 
upon  different  parts  of  his  body,  and  at  the  fame 
time  balance  himfelf  on  a  fmall  cord  or  wire,  is  in- 
deed wonderful.    Nor  is  it  poilible  to  conceive  that. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  109 

in  fuch  an  inftance,  the  mind,  at  one  and  the  fame 
momentj  attends  to  thefe  different  equilibriums; 
for  it  is  not  merely  the  attention  which  is  requifite, 
but  the  eye.  We  muft  therefore  conclude,  that 
both  of  thefe  are  directed  fuccefUvely  to  the  differ- 
ent equilibriums,  but  change  from  one  objed  to  an- 
other with  iiich  velocity,  that  the  effeft,  with  ref> 
pe<51:  to  the  experiment,  is  the  fame  as  if  they  were 
dire(5led  to  all  the  objeds  conflantly. 

It  is  worth  while  to  remark  farther,  with  refped 
to  this  lail  illuftration,  that  it  affords  direct  evidence 
of  the  poflibiiity  of  our  exerting  acts  of  the  will, 
which  we  are  unable  to  recollect ;  for  the  move- 
ments of  the  equilibrifl:  do  not  fucceed  each  other  in 
a  regular  order,  like  thofe  of  the  harpfichord  player, 
in  performing  a  piece  of  mufic  ;  but  muft  in  every  in- 
ftance  be  regulated  by  accidents,  which  may  vary  in 
numberlefs  refpedts,  and  which  indeed  muft  vary  in 
numberlefs  refpeds,every  time  he  repeats  the  exper- 
iment :  and  therefore,  although,  in  the  former  cafe, 
we  fliould  fuppofe,  with  Hartley,  "  that  the  motions 
"  cling  to  one  another,  and  to  the  imprelTions  of  the 
"  notes,  in  the  way  of  afTociation,  without  any  in- 
"  tervention  of  the  ftate  of  mind  called  virill,"  yet, 
in  this  inftance,  even  the  pofTibility  of  fuch  a  fuppo- 
fition  is  dired:ly  contradicted  by  the  fact. 

The  dexterity  of  jugglers,  (which,  by  the  way, 
merits  a  greater  degree  of  attention  from  philofo- 
phers,  than  it  has  yet  attradted,)  affords  many  curi- 
ous illuftrations  of  the  fame  doctrine.  The  whole 
of  this  art  feems  to  me  to  be  founded  on  this  prin- 
ciple ;  that  it  is  poflible  for  a  perfon,  by  long  prac- 
tice, to  acquire  a  power,  not  only  of  carrying  on 
certain  intellectual  proceffes  more  quickly  than  oth- 
er men,  (for  all  the  feats  of  legerdemain  fuppofe  the 
exercife  of  obfervatlon,  thought,  and  volition,)  but 
of  performing  a  variety  of  movements  with  the 
hand,  before  the  eyes  of  a  company,  in  an  interval 


110  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

of  time  too  fliort  to  enable  the  fpectators  to  exert 
that  degree  of  attention  which  is  necelTary  to  lay  a 
foundation  for  memory.* 

As  fome  philofophers  have  difputed  the  influence 
of  the  will  in  the  cafe  of  habits,  fo  others  (particu- 
larly Stahl  and  his  followers)  have  gone  into  the  op- 
polite  extreme,  by  referring  to  the  will  all  the  vital 
motions.  If  it  be  admitted,  (fay  thefe  philofophers,) 
that  there  are  inftances  in  whirh  we  will  an  effedl, 
without  being  able  to  make  it  an  object  of  attention, 
is  it  not  poflible  that,  what  we  commonly  call  the 
vital  and  involuntary  motions,  may  be  the  conie- 
quences  of  our  own  thought  and  volition  ?  But  there 
is  furely  a  wide  difference  between  thofe  cafes,  in 
which  the  mind  w^as  at  firft  confcious  of  thought 
and  volition,  and  gradually  loft  the  power  of  atten- 
ding to  them,  from  the  growing  rapidity  of  ihe  in- 
tellectual procefs  ;  and  a  cafe  in  which  the  effect  it- 
felf  is  perfedly  unknown  to  the  bulk  of  mankind, 
even  after  they  arrive  at  maturity,  and  in  which 
this  effect  has  continued  to  take  place  with  the  moft 
perfect  regularity,  from  the  very  beginning  of  their 
animal  exiftence,  and  long  before  the  firft  dawn  of 
either  reflection  or  experience. 

Some  of  the  followers  of  Stahl  have  ftated  the  fact 
rather  inaccurately,  even  with  refpect  to  our  habit- 
ual exertions.  Thus  Dr.  Porteriield,  in  his  Treatife 
on  the  Eye,  is  at  pains  to  prove,  that  the  foul  may 
think  and  will  without  knowledge  or  confcioufnefs. 
But  this,  I  own,  is  to  me  inconceivable.  The  true 
ftate  of  the  facl,  I  apprehend,  is,  that  the  mind  may 
think  and  will,  without  attending  to  its  thoughts 
and  volitions,  fo  as  to  be  able  afterwards  to  recoi- 
led them. — Nor  is  this  merely  a  verbal  criticifm  ; 
for  there  is  an  important  difl'erence  between  con- 
fcioufnefs and  attention,  which  it  is  very  neceflary 

*  See  Note  [E.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINI>.  1 1 1 

to  keep  in  view,  in  order  to  think  upon  this  fubject 
with  any  degree  of  precifion.  *  The  one  is  an  in- 
voluntary ftate  of  the  mind  ;  the  other  is  a  volunta- 
ry ad: :  the  one  has  no  immediate  connection  with 
memory  ;  but  the  other  is  fo  effentially  fubfervient 
to  it,  that,  without  fome  degree  of  it,  the  ideas  and 
perceptions  which  pafs  through  the  mind,  feem  to 
leave  no  trace  behind  them. 

When  two  perfons  are  fpeaking  to  us  at  once,  we 
can  attend  to  either  of  them  at  pleafure,  without  be- 
ing much  difturbed  by  the  other.  If  we  attempt  to 
liften  to  both,  we  can  underftand  neither.  The  fad 
feems  to  be,  that  when  we  attend  conflantly  to  one 
of  the  fpeakers,  the  words  fpoken  by  the  other  make 
no  impreffion  on  the  memory,  in  cotifequence  of  our 
not  attending  to  them  ;  and  afFed  us  as  little  as  if 
they  had  not  been  uttered.  This  power,  however, 
of  the  mind  to  attend  to  either  fpeaker  at  pleafure, 
fuppofes  that  it  is,  at  one  and  the  fame  time,  con- 
fcious  of  the  fenfations  which  both  produce. 

Another  well-known  facl  may  be  of  ufe  in  illuf- 
trating  the  fame  diftindion.  A  perfon  who  acci- 
dentally lofes  his  fight,  never  fails  to  improve  grad- 
ually in  the  fenfibility  of  his  touch. — Now,  there  are 
only  two  ways  of  explaining  this.  The  one  is,  that, 
in  confequence  of  the  lofs  of  the  one  fenfe,  fome 
change  takes  place  in  the  phyfical  conftitution  of  the 
body,  fo  as  to  improve  a  different  organ  of  percep- 
tion. The  other,  that  the  mind  gradually  acquires 
a  power  of  attending  to   and  remembering  thofe 

*  The  distinction  between  attention  and  consciousness  is  pointed 
out  by  Dr.  Keid,  in  his  Essay?  on  the  intellectual  Powers  of  Man, 
p.  60.  "  Attention  is  a  voluntary  act ;  it  requires  an  active  exer- 
"  tion  to  begin  and  to  continue  it ;  and  it  may  be  continued  a« 
**  long  as  we  will ;  but  consciousness  is  involuntary,  and  of  no  con- 
"  tinuance,  chanojing  with  every  thought."  ihe  same  author 
has  remarked,  tha:^  these  two  operations  of  the  mir.d  have  been 
frequently  confounded  by  philosophers,  and  particularly  by  Mr, 
Locke. 


J  J  2  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fllgbter  fenfations  of  which  it  was  formerly  con* 
fcious,  but  which,  from  our  habits  of  inattention, 
made  no  impreffioti  whatever  on  the  memory.  No 
one,  furely,  can  hefitate  for  a  moment,  in  pronoun- 
cing which  of  thefe  two  fuppofitions  is  the  more 
philofophical. 

Having  treated,  at  confiderable  length,  of  thofe 
habits  in  which  both  mind  and  body  are  concerned, 
I  proceed  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  fome  phenome- 
na which  are  purely  intellectual  ;  and  which,  1  think, 
are  explicable  on  the  fame  principles  with  thofe 
which  have  been  now  under  our  review. 

Every  perfon  who  has  ftudied  the  elements  of  ge- 
ometry, muft  have  obferved  many  cafes  in  which 
the  truth  of  a  theorem  flruck  him  the  moment  he 
heard  the  enunciation.  I  do  not  allude  to  thofe 
theorems  the  truth  of  which  is  obvious  almoft  to 
fenfe  ;  fuch  as,  that  any  two  fides  of  a  triangle  are 
greater  than  the  third  fide ;  or  that  one  circle  can- 
not cut  another  circle  in  more  than  two  points  ;  but 
to  fome  propofitions  with  refpect  to  quantity,  con- 
lidered  abftradly,  (to  fome.  for  example,  in  the  fifth 
book  of  Euclid,)  which  almofi:  every  fi.udent  would 
be  ready  to  admit  without  a  demonftration.  Thefe 
propofitions,  however,  do  by  no  means  belong  to  the 
clafs  of  axioms  ;  for  their  evidence  does  not  ftrike 
every  perfon  equally,  but  requires  a  certain  degree 
of  quicknefs  to  perceive  it.  At  the  fame  time,  it 
frequently  happens,  that,  although  we  are  convin- 
ced the  propofition  is  true,w^e  cannot  fi:ate  immedi- 
ately to  others  upon  what  our  convidion  is  found- 
ed. In  fuch  cafes,  I  th'nk  it  highly  probable,  that 
before  we  give  our  afTent  to  the  theorem,  a  procefs  of 
thought*  has  pafled  through  the  mind,  but  has  paf- 

*  Of  tUe  nature  of  these  processes  of  thought,  I  shall  treat  fully 
in  another  \mTt  of  my  work,  under  the  article  of  l\easoning.  I 
have  expresbed  myself  concernijig  them  in  this  chapter,  in  as  gen- 
eral ternis  as  possible. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  US 

fed  through  the  mind,  b^t  has  paffed  through  it  fo 
quickly,  that  we  cannot,  without  difficulty,  arreft 
our  ideas  in  their  rapid  fucceffion,  and  ftate  them  to 
others  in  their  proper  and  logical  order.  It  is  fome 
confirmation  of  this  theory,  that  there  are  no  prop- 
ofitions  of  which  it  is  more  difficult  to  give  a  legiti- 
mate proof  from  firft  principles,  than  of  thofe  which 
are  only  removed  a  few  Heps  from  the  clafs  of  axioms 
—and  that  thofe  men  who  are  the  moft  remarkable 
for  their  quick  perception  of  mathematical  truth, 
are  feldom  clear  and  methodical  in  communicating 
their  knowledge  to  others. — A  man  of  a  moderate 
degree  of  quicknefs,  the  very  firtt  time  he  is  made 
acquainted  with  the  fundamental  principles  of  the 
method  of  fluxions,  or  of  the  method  of  prime  and 
ultimate  ratios,  is  almoft  inftantaneoufly  fatisfied  of 
their  truth  ;  yet  how  difficult  is  it  to  demonilrate 
thefe  principles  rigoroufly  ! 

What  I  have  now  faid  with  refpecl  to  mathemat- 
ics, may  be  applied  in  a  great  meafure  to  the  other 
branches  of  knowledge.  How  many  queilions  dai- 
ly occur  to  us,  in  morals,  in  politics,  and  in  common 
life  ;  in  confidering  which,  we  ahnoft  inftantaneouf- 
ly fee  where  the  truth  lies,  although  we  are  not  in  a 
condition,  all  at  once,  to  explain  the  grounds  of  our 
convidion  !  Indeed  I  apprehend,  there  are  few,  even 
among  thofe  who  have  devoted  themfelves  to  ftudy, 
but  who  have  not  been  habituated  to  communicate 
their  knowledge  to  others,  who  are  able  to  exhibit, 
in  their  natural  order,  the  different  iteps  of  any  in- 
veftigation  by  which  they  have  been  led  to  form  a 
particular  conclufion.  Fhe  common  obfervation, 
therefore,  that  an  obfcure  elocution  always  indicates 
an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  fubject ;  although  it 
may  perhaps  be  true  with  refpecl  to  men  who  have 
cultivated  the  art  of  fpeaking,  is  by  no  means  to  be 
relied  on  as  a  general  rule,  in  judging  of  the  talents 
of  thofe  whofe  fpeculations  have  been  carried  on 


114  ELEMENTS  OF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

with  a  view  merely  to  their  own  private  fatisfac- 
tion. 

In  the  courfe  of  my  own  experience,  I  have  heard 
of  more  than  one  inftance,  of  men  who,  without 
any  mathematical  education,  were  able,  on  a  little 
reflection,  to  give  a  folution  on  any  finiple  algebra- 
ical problem  ;  and  who,  at  the  fame  time,  were  per- 
fedly  incapable  of  explaining  by  what  iteps  they  ob- 
tained the  refult.  In  thefe  cafes,  we  have  a  direct 
proof  of  the  pollibility  of  inveftigating  even  truths 
which  are  pretty  remote,  by  an  intelledual  procefs, 
which,  as  ioon  as  it  is  finilhed,  vanilhes  almoft  en- 
tirely from  the  memory. — It  is  probable,  that  fon  e- 
thing  of  the  fame  kind  takes  place  much  more  fre- 
quently in  the  other  branches  of  knowledge,  in 
w^hich  our  reafonings  con fift  commonly  but  of  a  lew 
ileps.  Indeed,  1  am  inclined  to  think,  that  it  is  in 
this  way  that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  our  fpecula- 
tive  concluiions  are  formed. 

There  is  no  talent,  I  apprehend,  fo  elTential  to  a 
public  fpeaker,  as  to  be  able  t(^  ftate  clearly  every 
different  ftep  of  thofe  trains  of  thought  by  which  he 
himfelf  has  led  to  the  conclufions  he  wifhea  to  eflab- 
lifh.  Much  may  be  here  done  by  ttudy  and  expe- 
rience. Even  in  thofe  cafes  in  which  the  truth  of  a 
propofition  feem§  to  ftrike  us  inftantaneoufly,  al- 
though we  may  not  be  able,  at  firft,  to  difcover  the 
media  of  proof,  we  feldom  fail  in  the  difcovery  by 
perfeverance. — Nothing  contributes  fo  much  to  form 
this  talent  as  the  ftudy  of  metaphyfics  ;  not  the  ab- 
furd  metaphyfics  of  the  fchools,but  that  ftudy  which 
has  the  operations  of  the  mind  for  its  object.  By 
habituating  us  to  reflect  on  the  fubjects  of  our  con- 
fcioufnels,  it  enables  us  to  retard,  in  a  conficlerable  ^ 
degree,  the  current  of  thought ;  to  arreft  many  of 
thofe  ideas,  which  w^ould  otherwife  efcape  our  no- 
tice ;  and  to  render  the  arguments  which  we  em- 
ploy for  the  convidion  of  others,  an  exad  tranfcript 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  1  >5 

of  thofe  trains  of  inquiry  and  reafoning,  which  ori- 
ginally led  us  to  form  our  opinions. 

Thefe  obfervations  lead  rne  to  take  notice  of  an 
important  diftinc^ion  between  the  intelledual  habits 
of  men  of  fpeculation  and  of  aflion.  The  latter, 
who  are  under  a  neceflity  of  thinking  and  deciding 
on  the  fpur  of  the  occafion,  are  led  to  cultivate,  as 
much  as  poffible,  a  quicknefs  in  their  ment»t  opera- 
tions ;  and  fometimes  acquire  it  in  fo  great  a  degree, 
that  their  judgments  feem  to  be  almoil  intuitive. 
To  thofe,  on  the  other  hand,  who  have  not  merely 
to  form  opinions  for  themfelves,  but  to  communi- 
cate them  to  others,  it  is  neceffary  to  retard  the  train 
of  thought  as  it  palTes  in  the  mind,  fo  as  to  be  able 
afterwards  to  recolledl  every  different  ftep  of  the  pro- 
cefs  ;  a  habit,  which,  in  fome  cafes,  has  fuch  an  in- 
fluence on  the  intelledual  powers,  that  there  are 
men,  who,  even  in  their  private  fpeculations,  not  on- 
ly make  ufe  of  words  as  an  inltrument  of  thought^ 
but  form  thefe  words  into  regular  fentences. 

It  may  perh^^^ps  appear,  at  firft,  a  paradoxical  ob- 
fervation,  that  one  great  employment  of  philofo- 
phers,  in  a  refined  age,  is  to  bring  to  light,  and  ar- 
range, thofe  rapid  and  confufed  trains  of  thought, 
which  appear  from  the  ftruclure  of  languages,  and 
from  the  monuments  of  ancient  laws  and  govern- 
ments, to  have  paffed  through  the  minds  of  men  in 
the  moft  remote  and  unenlightened  periods.  In 
proof,  however,  of  this,  it  is  fufficient  to  mention, 
the  fyilematical  analogy  which  we  find,  to  a  certain 
degree,  running  through  the  fl:rud:ure  of  the  moft 
imperfect  tongues,  (for  example,  in  the  formation  of 
the  different  parts  of  the  verbs,)  and  thofe  general 
principles,  which  the  philofophical  lawyer  traces  a- 
midft  an  apparent  chaos  of  precedeiits  and  flatutes. 
In  the  language,  too,  of  the  rudtft  tribe,  we  find 
words  transferred  from  one  lubjecl  to  another, 
which  indicate,  in  the  mind  of  the  individual  who 


116  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

firft  made  the  transference,  fome  perception  of  re- 
femblance  or  of  analogy.  Such  transferences  can 
hardly  be  afcribed  to  accident,  but  may  be  confider- 
ed  as  proofs  that  the  analogies  which  the  phiiofo- 
pher  afterwards  points  out  between  the  objects 
which  are  diftinguifhed  by  the  fame  name,  had  been 
perceived  by  the  inventors  of  language,  although  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  they  never  expreffed  them 
in  words,  nor  could  even  have  explained  them  if 
they  had  been  queftioned  on  the  fubjecl. 

Nor  will  this  appear  a  bold  or  incredible  fuppofi- 
tion,  if  we  reflect  on  the  fagacity  and  ingenuity 
which  favages,  and  even  peafants,  difcover,  in  over- 
coming the  difficulties  which  occur  in  their  fitua- 
tion.  They  do  not,  indeed,  engage  in  long  procef- 
fes  of  abftra<5b  reafoning,  for  which  they  have  no  in- 
clination, and  which  it  is  impoffible  to  carry  on  with- 
out the  ufe  of  a  cultivated  and  a  copious  language  ; 
but, when  preffed  by  prefent  circumftances,they  com- 
bine means  to  accompiifh  particular  ends,in  a  manner 
which  indicates  the  exercife  both  of  invention  and 
of  reafoning.  It  is  probable  that  fuch  procefles  are 
carried  on  in  their  minds,  with  much  lefs  afliftance 
from  language,  than  a  philofopher  would  derive  on 
a  fimilar  occalion  ;  and  it  is  almoft  certain,  that  they 
would  find  themfelves  perfectly  incapable  of  com- 
municating to  others  the  fteps  by  which  they  were 
led  to  their  conclufions.  In  confequence  of  thefe 
circumftances,  the  attainments  ot  the  human  mind, 
in  its  ruder  Hate,  perifli  with  the  individual,  with- 
out being  recorded  in  writing,  or  perhaps  exprefled 
in  v/ords  ;  and  we  are  left  to  infer  them  indireclly 
from  the  ftruclure  of  language,  or  from  the  monu- 
ments of  ancient  cuftoms  and  inftitutions. 

When  a  train  of  thought  leads  to  any  interefting 
conclufion,  or  excites  any  pleasant  feeling,  it  becomes 
peculiarly  difficult  to  arreil:  our  fleeting  ideas ;  be- 
caufe  the  mind,  when  once  it  has  felt  the  pleafure. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  1 17 

has  little  inclination  to  retrace  the  fteps  by  which  it 
arrived  at  it.  This  is  one  great  caufe  of  the  difficul- 
ty attending  philofophical  criticifm.  When  a  critic 
explains  to  us,  why  we  are  pleafed  with  any  partic* 
utar  beauty,  or  offended  with  any  defect,  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  if  his  theory  be  juft,  the  circuniftances 
which  he  points  out  as  the  foundation  of  our  pleaf- 
ure  or  uneaiiness,  muft  have  occurred  to  our  minds 
before  we  were  pleased  with  the  beauty,  or  offended 
with  the  defed:.  In  fuch  cafes,  it  fometimes  hap- 
pens, when  a  critic  has  been  fortunate  in  his  theory, 
that  we  recognize  at  firft  light  our  old  ideas,  and, 
without  any  farther  coniideration,  are  ready  to 
bear  tellimony  to  the  truth,  from  our  own  con- 
fcioufness.  So  very  difficult,  however,  is  it  to  at- 
tend to  the  ideas  which  excite  fuch  feelings,  that 
it  often  appears  to  be  doubtful,  whether  a  theory  be 
right  or  wrong  ;  and  that  where  there  is  every  rea- 
fon  to  believe  that  the  pleafure  is  produced  in  all 
men  in  the  fame  way,  different  critics  adopt  different 
theories  with  refpe61:  to  its  caufe.  It  is  long  pradlice 
alone,  joined  to  what  is  commonly  called  a  meta- 
phyfical  turn  of  mind,  (by  which  I  think  is  chiefly 
to  be  underftood,  a  capacity  of  reflecting  on  the  fub- 
jeds  of  our  confcioufnefs,)  that  can  render  fuch  ef- 
forts of  attention  eafy.  Exquifite  fenfibility,  fo  far 
from  being  ufeful  in  this  fpecies  of  criticifm,  both 
gives  a  difrelifli  for  the  fl:udy,  and  difqualifies  for 
purfuing  it. 

Before  we  leave  the  fubjec^  of  attention,  it  is  pro- 
per to  take  notice  of  a  queftion  which  has  been  ftated 
with  refpect  to  it  ;  whether  we  have  the  power  of 
attending  to  more  than  one  thing  at  one  and  the 
fame  inftant  ;  or,  in  other  words,  whether  we  can 
attend  at  one  and  the  fame  inftant,  to  objects  which 
we  can  attend  to  feparately  ?*    This  quellion  has,  it 

*  I  have  added  this  explanation  to  obviate  the  question,  what  "5 
meant  by  one  object  ? 


118  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

I  am  not  miftaken,  been  already  decided  by  feveral 
philofophers  in  the  negative  ;  and  I  acknowledge, 
for  my  own  part,  that  although  their  opinion  has 
not  only  been  called  in  queftion  by  others,  but  even 
treated  with  fome  degree  of  contempt  as  altogether 
hypothetical,  it  appears  to  me  to  be  the  moft  reafon- 
able  and  philofophical  that  we  can  form  on  the  fub- 
ject. 

There  is  indeed  a  great  variety  of  cafes,  in  which 
the  mind  apparently  exerts  different  acls  of  atten- 
tion at  once  ;  but  from  the  inflances  which  have 
already  been  mentioned,  of  the  aftonifhing  rapidity 
of  thought,  it  is  obvious,  that  all  this  may  be  explain- 
ed, without  fuppofing  thefe  ads  to  be  co-exiftent ; 
and  1  may  even  venture  to  add,  it  may  all  be  axplain- 
ed  in  the  moft  fatisfad:ory  manner,  without  afcribing 
to  our  intellectual  operations,  a  greater  degree  of 
rapidity  than  that  with  which  we  know  from  the 
fa(5l  that  they  are  fometimes  carried  on.  The  efFecl 
of  practice  in  increafmg  this  capacity  of  apparently 
attending  to  different  things  at  once,  renders  this 
explanation  of  the  phenomenon  in  queftion,  more 
probable  than  any  other. 

The  cafe  of  the  equilibrift  and  rope-dancer  already 
mentioned,  is  particularly  favourable  to  this  expla- 
nation ;  as  it  affords  direct  evidence  of  the  poiTibili- 
ty  of  the  mind's  exerting  different  fucceilive  ac^fs  in 
an  interval  of  time  fo  fhort,  as  to  produce  the  fame 
fenfible  effed,  as  if  they  had  been  exerted  at  one  and 
the  fame  moment.  In  this  cafe,  indeed,  the  rapidity 
of  thought  is  fo  remarkable,  that  if  the  different  acts 
of  the  mind  were  not  all  neceffarily  accompanied 
with  different  movements  of  the  eye,  there  can  be 
no  reafon  for  doubting,  that  the  philofophers,  whofe 
dodrine  I  am  nov^'  controverting,  would  have  as- 
ferted,  that  they  are  all  mathematically  co-exiftent. 

Upon  a  queftion,  however,  of  this  fort,  which  does 
not  ^dmit  of  a  perfectly  direct  appeal  to  the  fad,  I 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  Il9 

would  by  no  means  be  underftood  to  decide  with 
confidence  ;  and  therefore  Ifhouid  wifh  the  cor.clu- 
iions  I  am  now  to  (late,  to  be  received  as  cnly  c^^n- 
ditionally  eftabliihed.  They  are  neceffiry  and  obvi- 
ous confequences  of  the  general  principle, "  that  the 
"  mind  can  only  attend  to  one  thing  at  once  ;'*  but 
muft  Hand  or  fall  with  the  truth  of  that  fuppofition. 

It  is  commonly  underftood,  I  believe,  that,  in  a 
concert  of  mufic,  a  good  ear  can  attend  to  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  mufic  feparately,  or  can  attend  to 
them  all  at  once,  and  feel  the  full  effect  of  the  har- 
mony. If  the  doctrine,  however,  which  I  have  en- 
deavored to  eftablifh,  be  admitted,  it  will  follow, ^ 
that  in  the  latter  cafe,  the  mind  is  conftantly  vary- 
ing its  attention  from  the  one  part  of  the  mufic  to 
the  other,  and  that  its  operations  are  fo  rapid,  as  to 
give  us  no  perception  of  an  interval  of  time. 

The  fame  dodrine  leads  to  fome  curious  conclu- 
fions  with  refped  to  vifion.  Suppofe  the  eye  to  be 
fixed  in  a  particular  pofition,  and  the  picture  of  an 
objed:  to  be  painted  on  the  retina.  Does  the  mind 
perceive  the  complete  figure  of  the  object  at  once,  or 
is  this  perception  the  refult  of  the  various  percep- 
tions we  have  of  the  different  p^)ints  in  the  outline  ? 
With  refpect  to  this  queftion,  the  prin  iples  already 
ftated  lead  me  to  conclude,  that  the  mind  does  at 
one  and  the  fame  time  perceive  every  point  in  the 
outline  of  the  objed,  (provided  the  whole  of  it  be 
painted  on  the  retina  at  the  fame  inftant.)  for  per- 
ception, like  confcioufnefs,  is  an  involuntary  opera- 
tion. As  no  two  points,  however,  of  tlie  outline 
are  in  the  fame  direction,  every  point,  by  itfelf,  con- 
ftitutes  juft  as  diftind  an  objed  of  attention  to  the 
mind,  as  if  it  were  feparated  by  an  interval  of  empty 
fpace  from  all  the  reft.  If  the  doctrine  therefore  for- 
merly ft^^ied  be  juft,  it  is  impofTible  for  the  mind  to 
attend  to  more  than  one  of  thefe  points  at  once  ; 
and  as  the  perception  of  the  figure  of  the  object,  im- 


120  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

plies  a  knowledge  of  the  relative  fituation  of  thedif- 
fereiu  points  with  refpect  to  each  other,  we  n  uft 
conclude,  that  the  perception  of  figure  by  the  eye, 
is  the  refult  of  a  number  of  different  acis  of  atten- 
tion. Thefe  acls  of  attention,  however,  are  per- 
forated with  fuch  rapidity,  that  the  efied,  with  re- 
fpt  6t  to  us,  is  the  fame  as  if  the  perception  were  in- 
ftantaneous. 

In  fiirther  confirmation  of  this  reafoning,  it  may 
be  remarked,  that  if  the  perception  of  vifible  figure 
were  an  immediate  confequence  of  the  pidure  on  the 
retina,  we  fliould  have,  at  the  firft  glance,  as  diftind 
an  idea  of  a  figure  of  a  thoufand  fides,  as  of  a  tri- 
angle or  afquare.  The  truth  is,  that  when  the  fig- 
ure is  very  fimple,  the  procefs  of  the  mind  is  fo  rapid, 
that  the  perception  feems  to  be  inftantaneous  ;  but 
when  the  fides  are  multiplied  beyond  a  certain  num- 
ber, the  interval  of  time  neceflary  for  thefe  different 
ads  of  attention  becomes  perceptible. 

It  may  perhaps  be  afked,  what  I  mean  by  a  point 
in  the  outline  of  a  figure,  and  what  it  is  that  confli- 
tutes  \his  point  one  object  of  attention  ?  1  he  anfwer, 
I  apprehend,  is,  that  this  point  is  the  minmum  vifibile. 
If  the  point  be  lefs,  we  cannot  perceive  it  :  it  it  be 
greater,  it  is  not  all  feen  in  one  diredion. 

If  thefe  obfervations  be  adirittcd,  it  will  follow, 
that,  without  the  faculty  of  mem>ory,  we  could  have 
had  no  perception  of  vifiible  figure. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  121 

CHAPTER  THIRD. 

Of  Conception, 

BY  Conception,  I  mean  that  power  of  the  mind, 
which  enables  it  to  form  a  notion  of  an  abfent  ob- 
ject of  perception  ;  or  of  a  fenfation  which  it  has 
formerly  felt.  I  do  not  contend  that  this  is  exclu- 
fively  the  proper  meaning  of  the  word,  but  I  think 
that  the  faculty  which  I  have  now  defined  delerves 
to  be  diftinguiflied  by  an  appropriated  name. 

Conception  is  often  confounded  with  other  pow- 
ers. When  a  painter  makes  a  picture  of  a  friend, 
who  is  abfent  or  dead,  he  is  commonly  faid  to  paint 
from  memory  :  and  the  expreffion  is  fufHciently  cor- 
red  for  common  converfation.  But  in  an  analyfis 
of  the  mind,  there  is  ground  for  a  diftindlion. 
The  power  of  conception  enables  him  to  make  the 
features  of  his  friend  an  object  of  thought,  fo  as  to 
copy  the  refemblance  ;  the  power  of  memory  recog- 
nifes  thefe  features  as  a  former  obje<Et  of  perception. 
Every  adt  of  memory  includes  an  idea  of  the  pait ; 
conception  imphes  no  idea  of  time  whatever.* 

According  to  this  view  of  the  matter,  the  word 
conception  correfponds  to  what  was  called  by  the 
fchoolmen  ftmple  apprehenjion  ;  with  this  difference 
only,  that  they  included,  under  this  name,  our  ap- 
prehenfion  of  general  propofitions ;  whereas  I  fliould 
wi(h  to  limit  the  application  of  the  word  conception 
to  our  fenfations,  and  the  objects  of  our  perceptions. 
Dr.  Reid,  in  his  Inquiry,  fubftitutes  the  word  con- 

*  Shakespeare  calls  this  power  **  the  mind's  eye." 
Hamlet. — ^*  My  father!  Methinks  1  see  my  father. 
Horatio. — *'  Where,  my  Lord  ? 
Hamlet. — "  In  vny  mind's  eye,  Horatio." 

Act  i.  Scene  4. 


122  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ceptivn  inftead  of  the  fimple'  apprehenfion  of  the 
fchools,  and  employs  it  in  the  fame  extenfive  lignific2&- 
cation.  I  think  it  may  contribute  to  make  our  ideas 
more  diftincl,  to  reftricl  its  meaning  : — and  for  fuch 
a  reftri(^ion,  we  have^the  authority  of  philofophers 
in  a  eafe  perfedly  analogous, — In  ordinary  language, 
we  apply  the  fame  word  perception^  to  the  knowledge 
which  we  have  by  our  fenfes  of  external  objedls,  and 
to  our  knowledge  of  fpeculative  truth  :  and  yet  an 
author  would  be  juftly  cenfured,  who  fhould  treat  of 
thefe  two  operations  of  the  mind  under  the  fame 
article  of  perception.  I  apprehend  there  is  as  wide 
a  difference  between  the  conception  of  a  truth,  and 
the  conception  of  an  abfent  objed  of  fenfe,  as  be- 
tween the  perception  of  a  tree,  and  the  perception  of 
a  mathematical  theorem. — I  have  therefore  taken 
the  liberty  to  diftinguifli  alfo  the  two  former  opera- 
tions of  the  mind  :  and  under  the  article  of  conception 
Ihall  confine  myfelf  to  that  faculty  whofe  province 
it  is  to  enable  us  to  form  a  notion  of  our  paft  fen- 
fetions,  or  of  the  objeds  of  fenfe  that  we  have  for- 
merly perceivedr 

Conception  is  frequently  ufed  as  fynonymous  with 
imagination.  Dr.  Reid  fays,  that  "  imagination,  in 
*'  its  proper  fenfe,  fignifies  a  lively  conception  of  ob- 
"  jecls  of  light."  "  This  is  a  talent"  (he  remarks) 
*'  of  importance  to  poets  and  orators  ;  and  deferves 
"  a  proper  name,  on  account  of  its  connexion  with 
*'  their  arts."  He  adds,  that  "  imagination  is  dif- 
"  tinguiflied  from  conception,  as  a  part  from  a 
"  whole." 

I  fhall  not  inquire,  at  prefent,  into  the  proper 
Englifh  meaning  of  the  words  conception  and  imagina- 
tion. In  a  ftudy  fuch  as  this,  fo  far  removed  from 
the  common  purpofes  of  fpeech,  fome  latitude  may 
perhaps  be  allowed  in  the  ufe  of  words  j  provided 
only  we  define  accurately  thofe  we  employ,  and 
adhere  to  our  own  definitions.  m 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINt).  J  23 

The  bufinefs  of  conception  according  to  the  ac- 
count I  have  given  of  it,  is  to  prefent  us  with  an 
exact  tranfcript  of  what  we  have  felt  or  perceived. 
But  we  have  moreover,  a  power  of  modifying  our 
conceptions,  by  combining  the  parts  of  different  ones 
together,  fo  as  to  form  new  wholes  of  our  own  cre- 
ation. I  fhall  employ  the  word  magination  to  exprefs 
this  power  :  and,  I  apprehend,  that  this  is  the  pro- 
per fenfe  of  the  word  ;  if  imagination  be  the  power 
which  gives  birth  to  the  productions  of  the  poet  and 
the  painter.  This  is  not  a  iimple  faculty  of  the  mind. 
It  prefuppofes  abftraction,  to  feparate  from  each  other 
qualities  and  circumftances  which  have  been  perceiv- 
ed in  conjundion  ;  and  alfo  judgment  and  tafte  to 
dired  us  in  forming  the  combinations.  If  they  are 
made  wholly  at  random,  they  are  proofs  of  infanity.*" 

The  firft  remarkable  fa6t  which  ftrikes  us  with  re- 
fyed:  to  conception  is,  that  we  can  conceive  the  ob- 
jects of  fome  fenfes  much  more  eafily  than  thofe  of 
others.  Thus  we  can  conceive  an  abfent  vifible  ob- 
ject, fuch  as  a  building  that  is  familiar  to  us,  much 
more  eafily  than  a  particular  found,  a  particular  tafte, 
or  a  particular  pain,  which  we  have  formerly  felt.  It 
is  probable,  however,  that  this  power  might  be  im- 
proved in  the  cafe  of  fome  of  ovir  fenfes.     Few  peo- 

*  In  common  discourse,  we  often  use  the  phrase  of  t/iwkmg  upon 
an  ohject,  to  express  what  I  here  call,  tlie  conception  of  it.-r-ln  the 
following  passage,  Slwkespeare  uses  the  former  of  these  phrases, 
and  the  wordi  imcgination  and  apprehension  as  synonymous  witli 
each  other. 

Who  can  hold  a  fire  in  bis  hand, 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ? 
Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite, 
!  Vty  bare  imagination  of  a  feast  \ 

Or  wallow  naked  in  December's  sjiow, 
By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer's  heat  ? 
Oh  no  !  the  ap(»reliension  of  the  ^ood 
Givea  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse. 

K.  RiciiARu  ir.  Act  i.  Scene  t. 


124  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

pie,  I  believe,  are  able  to  form  a  very  diftind  concept 
tion  of  founds  ;  and  yet  it  is  certain,  that  by  pradice, 
a  perfon  may  acquire  a  power  of  amufing  himfelf 
with  reading  written  mufic.  And  in  the  cafe  of  po- 
etical numbers,  it  h  univerfally  known,  that  a  reader 
may  enjoy  the  harmony  of  the  verfe,  without  artic- 
ulating the  words,  even  in  a  whifper.  In  fuch  cafes, 
I  take  for  granted,  that  our  plealure  arifes  from  a 
very  ftrong  conception  of  the  founds  which  we  have 
been  accuftomed  to  afTociate  with  particular  written 
charaders. 

The  peculiarity  in  the  cafe  of  vifible  objects,  feems 
to  arife  from  this  ;  that  when  we  think  of  a  found 
or  of  a  talle,  the  objed:  of  our  conception  is  one  fin- 
gle  detached  fenfation  ;  whereas  every  vifible  object 
is  complex  ;  and  the  conception  which  we  form  of 
it  as  a  whole,  is  aided  by  the  affociation  of  ideas. 
To  perceive  the  force  of  this  obfervation,  it  is  necef- 
fary  to  recolledl  what  was  formerly  faid  on  the  liib- 
je6t  of  attention.  As  we  cannot  at  one  inflant  attend 
to  every  point  of  the  pidure  of  an  object  on  the  ret- 
ina, fo,  I  apprehend,  we  cannot  at  one  inflant  form 
a  conception  of  the  whole  of  any  vifible  objed: ;  but 
that  our  conception  of  the  obje6l  as  a  whole,  is  the 
refult  of  many  conceptions.  The  affociation  of  ideas 
conned:s  the  different  parts  together,  and  prefents 
them  to  the  mind  in  their  proper  arrangement  ;  and 
the  various  relations  which  thefe  parts  bear  to  one 
another  in  point  of  fituation,  contribute  greatly  to 
ftrengthen  the  afTvKiations.  It  is  fome  confirmation 
of  this  theory,  that  it  is  more  eafy  to  remember  a 
fucceffion  of  founds,  than  any  particular  found  which 
we  have  heard  detached  and  unconnecled. 

The  power  of  conceiving  vifible  objects,  like  all 
other  powers  that  depend  on  the  affociation  of  ideas, 
may  be  wonderfully  improved  by  habit.  A  perf  m 
accuftomed  to  drawing,  retains  a  much  more  perfed: 
notion  of  a  building  or  of  a  landfcape  which  he  has 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  125 

feen,  than  one  who  has  never  pracHfed  that  art.  A 
portrait  painter  traces  the  forni  of  the  human  body 
from  memory,  with  as  little  exertion  of  attention, 
as  he  employs  in  writing  the  letters  which  compofe 
his  name. 

In  the  power  of  conceiving  colours,  too,  there  are 
flriking  differences  among  individuals  :  and,  indeed, 
I  am  inclined  to  fufped,  that,  in  the  greater  number 
of  inftances,  the  fuppofed  defects  of  fight  in  this  ret 
ped,  ought  to  be  afcribed  rather  to  a  defe(fl  in  the 
power  of  conception.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  we 
often  fee  men  who  are  perfedly  fenfible  of  the  dif- 
ference between  two  colours  when  they  are  prefent- 
ed  to  them,  who  cannot  give  names  to  thefe  colors, 
with  confidence,  when  they  fee  them  apart ;  and 
are  perhaps  apt  to  confound  the  one  with  the  other. 
Such  men,  it  fhould  feem,  feel  the  fenfation  of-  col- 
or like  other  men,  when  the  objed  is  prefent,  but 
are  incapable  (probably  in  confequence  of  fome  ear- 
ly habit  of  inattention)  to  conceive  the  fenfation  dif- 
tind:ly  when  the  objed:  is  removed.  Without  this 
power  of  conception,  it  is  evidently  impofTible  for 
them,  however  lively  their  fenfations  may  be,  to 
give  a  name  to  any  color ;  for  the  application  of  the 
name  fuppofes  not  only  a  capacity  of  receiving  the 
fenfation,  but  a  power  of  comparing  it  with  one  for- 
merly felt.  At  the  fame  time,  I  would  not  be  un- 
derflood  by  thefe  obfervations  to  deny,  that  there 
are  cafes,  in  which  there  is  a  natural  defect  of:  the 
organ  in  the  perception  of  color.  In  fome  cafes, 
perhaps,  the  fenfation  is  not  felt  at  all ;  and  in  oth- 
ers, the  faintnefs  of  the  fenfation  may  be  one  caufe 
of  thofe  habits  of  inattention,  from  which  the  inca- 
pacity of  conception  has  arifen. 

A  talent  for  lively  defcription,  at  leafl  in  the  cafe 
of  fenfible  objeds,  depends  chiefly  on  the  degree  in 
which  the  defcriber  poffefTes  the  power  of  concep- 
tion.    We  may  remark,  even  in  common  conver- 


126  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fation,  a  ftriking  difFerence  among  individuals  in 
this  refpecl.  One  man,  in  attempting  to  convey  a 
notion  of  any  objed  he  has  feen,  feems  to  place  it 
before  him,  and  to  paint  from  actual  perception  ; 
another,  although  not  deficient  in  a  ready  elocution, 
finds  himfelf  in  fuch  a  fituation  confufed  and  embar- 
raffed  among  a  number  of  particulars  imperfedlly 
apprehended,  which  crowd  into  his  mind  without 
any  juft  order  and  connection.  Nor  is  it  merely  to 
the  accuracy  of  o^r  defcriptions  that  this  power  is 
fubfervient :  it  contributes  more  than  any  thing 
clfe  to  render  them  ftriking  and  expreffive  to  others, 
by  guiding  us  to  a  feledion  of  fuch  circumftances  as 
are  moft  prominent  and  charaderiftical ;  infomuch 
that  I  think  it  may  reafonably  be  doubted,  if  a  per« 
fon  would  not  write  a  happier  defcription  of  an  ob- 
jed  from  the  conception  than  from  the  actual  per- 
ception of  it.  It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  the 
perfection  of  defcription  does  not  coniift  in  a  minute 
fpeciiication  of  circumftances,  but  in  a  judicious  fe- 
ieCtion  of  them  ;  and  that  the  beft  rule  for  making 
the  felection  is,  to  attend  to  the  particulars  that 
make  the  deepeft  impreflion  on  our  own  minds. 
When  the  object  is  adtually  before  us,  it  is  extreme- 
ly difficult  to  compare  the  impreflions  which  differ- 
ent circumftances  produce  ;  and  the  very  thought 
of  writing  a  defcription,  would  prevent  the  impref- 
fions  which  would  otherwife  take  place.  When  we 
afterwards  conceive  the  object,  the  reprefentation  of 
it  we  form  to  ourfelves,  however  lively,  is  merely 
an  outline  ;  and  is  made  up  of  thofe  circumftances, 
which  really  ftruck  us  moft  at  the  moment ;  while 
others  of  lefs  importance  are  obliterated.  The  im- 
preffion,  indeed,  which  a  circumftance  makes  on  the 
mind,  will  vary  confiderably  with  the  degree  of  a 
perfon's  tafte ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think,  that  a 
man  of  lively  conceptions,  who  paints  from  thefe, 
while  his  mind  is  yet  warm  from  the  original  fcene, 
can  hardly  fail  to  fucceed  in  defcriptive  coaipofition. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  1^7 

The  fa^ls  and  obfervations  which  I  have  now  men- 
tioned, are  applicable  to  conception,  as  diflingulfli- 
ed  from  imagination.  The  two  powers,  however, 
are  very  nearly  allied  ;  and  are  frequently  fo  blend- 
ed, that  it  is  difficult  to  fay,  to  which  of  the  two, 
fome  particular  operations  of  the  mind  are  to  be  re- 
ferred. There  are  alfo  many  general  facts  which 
hold  equally  with  refpecl  to  both.  The  obferva- 
tions which  follow,  if  they  are  well  founded,  are  of 
this  number,  and  might  have  been  introduced  with 
equal  propriety  under  either  article.  I  mention 
them  here,  as  I  Ihall  have  occalion  to  refer  to  them 
in  the  courfe  of  the  following  work,  in  treating  of 
fome  fubje<!:1s,  which  will  naturally  occur  to  our  ex- 
amination, before  we  have  another  opportunity  of 
conlidering  this  part  of  our  conftitution. 

It  is  a  common,  I  believe  I  may  fay  an  univerfal, 
doctrine  among  logicians,  that  conception  (or  ima- 
gination, which  is  often  ufed  as  fynonymous  with 
it)  is  attended  with  no  belief  of  the  exiftence  of  its 
objed.  "  Perception,"  fays  Dr.  Reid,  "  is  attended 
"  with  a  belief  of  the  prefent  exiftence  of  its  objed ; 
"  memory,  with  a  belief  of  its  paft  exiftence  ;  but 
"  imagination  is  attended  with  no  belief  at  all ; 
**  and  was  therefore  called  by  the  fchool-men,  appre- 
*'  henfiofimpkicy 

It  is  with  great  diffidence,  that  I  prefurue  to  cali 
in  queftion  a  principle,  which  has  been  fo  generally 
received  ;  yet  there  are  feveral  circumftances  which 
lead  me  to  doubt  of  it.  If  it  were  a  fpecifical  dif> 
tinc^ion  between  perception  and  imagination,  that 
the  former  is  always  attended  with  belief,  and  the 
latter  with  none ;  then  the  more  lively  our  imagin- 
ation were  of  any  object,  and  the  more  completely 
that  object  occupied  the  attention,  the  lefs  ftiouid 
we  be  apt  to  believe  its  exiftence  ;  for  it  ii^  reafona- 
ble  to  think,  that  when  any  of  our  powers  is  em- 
ployed feparately  from  the  reft,  and  there  is  nothing 


128  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

to  withdraw  the  attention  from  it,  tlie  laws  which 
regulate  its  operation  will  be  moft  obvious  to  our 
obfervation,  and  will  be  nioft  completely  difcrimin- 
ated  from  thofe  which  are  chara6teriftical  of  the  oth- 
er powers  of  the  mind.  So  very  different  however 
is  the  fad,  that  it  is  matter  of  common  remark,  that 
when  imagination  is  very  lively,  we  are  apt  to  af- 
cribe  to  its  objeds  a  real  exiftence,  as  in  the  cafe  of 
dreaming  or  of  rnadnefs  ;  and  we  may  add,  in  the 
cafe  of  thofe  who,  in  fpite  of  their  own  general  be- 
lief of  the  abfurdity  of  the  vulgar  llories  of  appari- 
tions, dare  not  trutl  themfelves  alone  with  their  own 
imaginations  in  the  dark.  That  imagination  is  in 
thefe  inftances  attended  with  belief,  we  have  all  the 
evidence  that  the  nature  of  the  thing  admits  of;  for 
we  feel  and  a6t  in  the  fame  manner  as  we  fhould  do, 
if  we  believed  that  the  objecls  of  our  attention  were 
real ;  which  is  the  only  proof  that  metaphyficians 
produce,  or  can  produce,  of  the  belief  which  accom- 
panies perception. 

In  thefe  cafes,  the  fa6l  that  I  wifh  to  eftablifh  is 
fo  flriking,  that  it  has  never  been  called  in  queflion  ; 
but  in  mofl  cafes,  the  imprefTion  which  the  objedls 
of  imagination  make  on  the  mind  is  lo  momentary, 
and  is  fo  immediately  corredled  by  the  furrounding 
objeds  of  perception,  that  it  has  not  time  to  influ- 
ence our  conduct.  Hence  we  are  apt  to  conclude 
on  a  fuperficial  view,  that  imagination  is  attended 
with  no  belief;  and  the  conclufion  is  furely  jufl  in 
moil  cafes,  if  by  belief  we  mean  a  permanent  con- 
viction which  influences  our  condud.  But  if  the 
word  be  ufed  in  the  flrid  logical  fenfe,  I  am  inclin- 
ed to  think,  after  the  mofl  careful  attention  to  what 
I  experience  in  myfelf,  that  the  exercife  both  of 
conception  and  imagination  is  always  accompanied 
with  a  belief  that  their  objeds  exifL*     When  a 

*  As  the  foregoing  reasoning,  though  satisfactory  to  myself,  has 
not  appeared  equally  so  to  some  of  oy  friends ;  I  should  vhh  the 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  129 

painter  conceives  the  face  and  figure  of  an  abfent 
friend,  in  order  to  draw  his  pi6ture,he  believes  for  the 
moment  that  his  friend  is  before  him.     The  belief, 

reader  to  consider  the  remarks  which  I  now  offer,  as  amounting 
rather  to  a  query,  than  to  a  decided  opinion. 

May  I  take  the  liberty  of  adding,  that  one  of  the  arguments 
which  I  have  stated,  in  opposition  to  the  common  doctrine  con- 
cerning imagination,  appears  to  me  to  be  authorised,  in  some 
measure,  by  the  following  reasoning  of  Dr.  Reid's  on  a  different 
subject  ?  In  considering  thobe  sudden  bursts  of  passion,  which  lead 
us  CO  wreak  our  vengeance  upon  manimate  objects,  he  endeavors 
to  shew,  that  we  have  in  such  cases,  a  momentary  belief  thgt  the 
object  is  alive.  "  I  confess,"  says  he,  *'  it  seems  to  me  impossible, 
"  that  there  should  be  resentment  against  a  thing,  which,  at  that 
"  very  moment,  is  considered  as  inanimate ;  and  consequently  in- 
"  capable  either  of  intending  hurt,  or  of  being  punished. — There 
•*  must,  therefore.  I  conceive,  be  some  momentary  notion  or  con- 
•'  ception,  that  the  object  of  our  resentment  is  capable  of  punish- 
«  ment." 

In  another  passage,  the  same  author  remarks,  that  »*  men  may 
*'  be  governed,  in  their  practice,  by  a  belief,  which,  in  speculation, 
**  they  reject." 

"  1  knew  a  man,"  says  he,  "  who  was  as  much  convinced  as  a- 
•*  ny  man,  of  the  folly  of  the  popular  belief  of  apparitions  in  the 
"  dark :  yet  he  could  not  sleep  in  a  room  alone,  n  r  go  alone  into 
"  a  room  in  the  dark.  Can  it  be  said,  that  his  fear  did  not  imply 
•*  a  belief  of  danger  ?  This  is  impossible.  Yet  his.pliilosophy  con- 
"  vinced  him,  that  he  was  in  no  more  danger  in  the  dark  when  a- 
"  lone,  than  with  company.  Here  an  unreasonable  belief,  which 
**  was  merely  a  prejudice  of  the  nurisery,  stuck  so  fast  as  to  govern 
<*  his  conduct,  in  opposition  to  his  speculative  belief  as  a  philoso- 
"  pher,  and  a  man  ©f  sense." 

**  There  are  few  persons  who  can  look  down  from  the  battle- 
"  ment  of  a  very  high  tower  without  fear;  while  their  reason  con- 
"  vinces  them,  that  they  are  in  no  more  danger  than  when  stand- 
**  ing  upon  the  ground." 

These  facts  are  easily  explicable,  on  the  supposition,  that  when- 
ever the  objects  of  imagination  engross  the  attention  wholly  (which 
Ihey  may  do,  in  opposition  to  any  speculative  opinion  with  re- 
spect to  their  non  existence.)  they  produce  a  temporary  belief  of 
their  reality. — Indeed,  in  the  last  passage,  Dr.  Reid  seems  to  ad- 
mit this  to  be  the  case  ,*  for,  to  say  that  a  man  who  has  a  dread  of 
apparitions,  believes  himself  to  be  in  danger  when  left  alone  in  the 
dark,  is  to  say,  in  other  words,  that  he  believes  (lor  the  Ume)  that 
the  objects  of  his  ioidgination  a^e  real. 


ISO  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

indeed,  is  only  momentary  ;  for  it  is  extremely  dii^ 
ficult,  in  our  waking  hours,  to  keep  up  a  fteady  and 
undivided  attention  to  any  objedl  we  conceive  or 
imagine  ;  and,  as  foon  as  the  conception  or  the  im- 
agination is  over,  the  belief  which  attended  it  is  at 
an  end.  We  find  that  we  can  recal  and  difmifs  the 
objects  of  thefe  powers  at  pleafure ;  and  therefore 
we  learn  to  confider  them  as  creations  of  the  mind, 
which  have  no  feparate  and  independent  exiftence. 

The  compatibility  of  fuch  a  fpeculative  difbelief, 
as  I  have  here  fuppofed,  of  the  exillence  of  an  ob- 
ject, with  a  contrary  momentary  belief,  may  perhaps 
be  more  readily  admitted,  if  the  following  experi- 
ment be  confidered  with  attention. 

Suppofe  a  lighted  candle  to  be  fo  placed  before  a 
concave  mirror,  that  the  image  of  the  flame  may  be 
feen  between  the  mirror  and  the  eye  of  the  obferven 
In  this  cafe,  a  perfon  who  is  acquainted  with  the 
principles  of  optics,  or  who  has  feen  the  experiment 
made  before,  has  fo  ftrong  a  fpeculative  conviction 
of  the  non-exiftence  of  the  object  in  that  place 
where  he  fees  its  image,  that  he  would  not  hefitate 
to  put  his  finger  to  the  apparent  flame,  without  any 
apprehenfion  of  injury. 

Suppofe,  however,  that  in  fuch  a  cafe  it  were  pof- 
fible  for  the  obferver  to  banifli  completely  from  his 
thoughts  all  the  circumflances  of  the  experiment, 
and  to  confine  his  attention  wholly  to  bis  percep- 
tion ;  would  he  not  believe  the  image  to  be  a  reali- 
ty ;  and  would  he  not  expert  the  fame  confequences 
from  touching  it,  as  from  touching  a  real  body  in  a 
ftate  of  inflammation  ?  If  thefe  quefi:ions  be  anfwer- 
ed  in  the  affirmative,  it  will  follow  ;  that  the  effect 
of  the  perception,  while  it  engages  the  attention 
completely  to  itfelf,  is  to  produce  belief ;  and  that 
the  fpeculative  difbelief,  according  to  which  our  con- 
dud  in  ordinary  cafes  is  regulated,  is  the  refult  of  a 
reeolledtion  of  the  various  circumflances  with  which 
the  experiment  is  accompaiued. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  131 

If,  in  fuch  a  cafe  as  T  have  now  fuppofed,  the  ap- 
pearance  exhibited  to  us  is  of  fuch  a  nature,  as  to 
threaten  us  with  any  immediate  danger,  the  efted 
is  the  fame  as  if  we  were  to  banifh  from  our  thoughts 
the  circumftances  of  the  experiment,  and  to  limit 
our  attention  folely  to  what  we  perceive  :  for  here 
the  belief,  which  is  the  firft  effecl  of  the  perception, 
alarms  our  fear?,  and  influences  our  conduft,  before 
reflection  has  time  to  operate.  In  a  very  ingenious 
optical  deception,  which  was  lately  exhibited  in  this 
city,  the  image  of  a  flower  was  prefented  to  the  fpec- 
tator ;  and  when  he  was  about  to  lay  hold  of  it  with 
his  hand,  a  ftroke  was  aimed  at  him  by  the  image 
of  a  dagger.  If  a  perfon  who  has  feen  this  experi- 
ment is  afked  in  his  cooler  moments,  whether  or 
not  he  believes  the  dagger  which  he  faw  to  be  real, 
he  will  readily  anfwer  in  the  negative  ;  and  yet  the 
accurate  fiatement  of  the  fad  undoubtedly  is,  that 
the  firfl  and  the  proper  efFed  of  the  perception  is 
belief ;  and  that  the  diibelief  he  feels,  is  the  effect  of 
fubfequent  refledion. 

The  fpeculative  difbelief  which  we  feel  with  re- 
fped  to  the  illufions  of  imagination,  I  conceive  to  be 
analogous  to  our  fpeculative  difbelief  of  the  exiflence 
of  the  objed  exhibited  to  the  eye  in  this  optical  de- 
ception ;  as  our  belief  that  the  illufions  of  imagina- 
tion are  real,  while  that  faculty  occupies  the  mind 
exclufively,  is  analogous  to  the  belief  produced  by 
the  optical  deception  while  the  attention  is  limited 
to  our  perception,  and  is  withdrawn  from  the  cir- 
cumflances  in  which  the  experiment  is  made.* 

Thefe  obfervations  lead  me  to  t^ke  notice  of  a  cir- 

*  It  may  appear  to  some  readers  r&thcr  trifling  to  add,  and  yet 
to  others  the  remark  may  not  be  altogether  superfluous,  that  it  is 
not  my  intention  to  insituiate  by  the  foregoing  illustrations,  that 
the  relation  between  perception  and  imagination  has  the  most  dis- 
tant analogy  to  that  betW'een  the  perceptbn  of  the  object,  and  tlie 
|)erception  of  its  optical  image. 


^32  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

cumftance  with  refped  to  the  belief  accompanying 
perception,  which  it  appears  to  nie  neceiTiiry  to  ftate, 
in  order  to  render  Dr.  Reid's  dodrine  on  that  fub- 
jed  completely  fatisfadory.  He  has  Ihewn,  that 
certain  fenfations  are,  by  a  law  of  our  nature,  ac- 
companied with  an  irrefiftible  belief  of  the  exiftence 
of  certain  qualities  of  external  objeds.  But  this 
law  extends  no  farther  than  to  the  preient  exiftence 
of  the  quality  ;  that  is,  to  its  exiftence  while  we  feel 
the  correlponding  fenfation.  When^  e  is  it  then, 
that  we  afcribe  to  the  quality,  an  exiftence  indepen- 
dent of  our  perception  ?  I  apprehend  we  learn  to  do 
this  by  experience  alone.  We  find  that  we  cannot, 
as  in  the  cafe  of  imaginatirn,  difmifs  or  recal  the  per- 
ception of  an  external  objed:.  If  I  open  my  eyes,  I 
cannot  prevent  myfelf  from  feeing  the  profped 
•which  is  before  me.  I  learn  therefore,  to  afcribe  to 
the  objeds  of  my  lenfes,  not  only  an  exiftence  at  the 
time  I  perceive  them,  but  an  independent  and  a 
permanent  exiftence. 

It  is  a  ftrong  confirmation  of  this  dodrine,  that 
in  fleep,  when  (as  I  fliail  endeavor  afterwards  to  fhew) 
the  influence  of  the  will  over  the  train  of  our 
thoughts  is  fufpended,  and  when,  of  confequence,  the 
time  of  their  continuance  in  the  mind  is  not  regula- 
ted  by  us,  we  afcribe  to  the  objeds  of  imagination 
an  independent  and  permanent  exiftence,  as  we  do 
when  awake  to  the  objeds  of  jverception.  The  fame 
thing  happens  in  thofe  kinds  of  madnefs,  in  which 
a  particular  idea  takes  pollellion  of  the  attention, 
and  occupies  it  to  the  exclufion  of  every  thing  elfe. 
Indeed,  madnefs  feems  in  many  cafes  to  arife  entire- 
ly from  a  fulpenfion  of  the  influence  of  the  will  over 
the  lucceilion  of  our  thoughts  ;  in  confequence  of 
which,  the  objedls  of  imagination  appear  to  have  an 
exiftence  independent  of  our  volition  ;  and  are 
therefore,  agreeably  to  the  foregoing  dodrine,  mis- 
taken for  realities. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  1S3 

Numberlefs  other  illuftrations  of  the  fame  general 
fact  occur  to  me  ;  but  the  ftiiiowing  is,  I  think,  one 
of  the  moft  llrik  ng.  I  mention  it,  in  preference  to 
the  reft,  as  it  appears  to  me  to  connect  the  dc^drine 
in  queftion  with  fome  principles  which  are  now  uni- 
verlally  admitted  among  philofophers. 

The  diftinction  between  the  original  and  the  ac- 
quired perceptions  of  fight,  is  familiarly  known  to 
every  one  who  has  the  ilighteft  acquaintance  with 
the  elements  of  optics.  That  this  fenfe,  prior  to  ex- 
perience, conveys  to  us  the  notion  of  extenfion  in 
two  dimenfions  only,  and  that  it  gives  us  no  infor- 
mation concerning  the  diftances  at  which  obje6:s  are 
placed  from  the  eye,  are  proportions  which  nobody, 
I  prefume,  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  fcience,  will  be  dif- 
pofed  to  controvert.  In  what  manner  we  are  ena- 
bled,  by  a  comparifon  between  the  perceptions  of 
fight  and  thofe  of  touch,  to  extend  the  province  of 
the  former  fenfe  to  a  variety  of  qualities  originally 
perceived  by  the  latter  fenfe  only,  optical  writers 
have  explained  at  great  length  ;  but  it  is  not  necef- 
fary  for  my  prefent  purpofe  to  enter  into  any  partic- 
ular details  with  refpecl  to  their  reafonings  on  the 
iiibjecft.  It  is  fufficient  for  me  to  remark,  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  received  doclrine,  the  original  percep- 
tions of  fight  become,  in  confequence  of  experience, 
fignsof  the  tangible  qualities  of  external  objects,  and 
of  the  diftances,  at  which  they  are  placed  from  the 
organ  ;  and  that,  although  the  knowledge  we  obtain, 
in  this  manner,  of  thefe  qualities  and  diftances,  feems, 
from  early  and  conftant  habits,  to  be  an  inftantane- 
ous  perception  ;  yet,  in  many  cafes,  it  implies  an  ex- 
ercife  of  the  judgment,  being  founded  on  a  compar- 
ifon  of  a  variety  of  different  circumftances. 

From  thefe  principles,  it  is  an  obvious  confequence, 
that  the  knowledge  we  obtain,  by  the  eye,  of  the 
tangible  qualities  of  bodies,  involves  the  exercile  of 
conception,  according  to  the  definition  of  that  pow- 


IS4  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

which  has  already  been  given.  In  ordinary  difcourfe, 
indeed,  we  afcribe  this  knowledge,  on  account  of  the 
inftantaneoufnefs  with  which  it  is  obtained,  to  the 
power  ot  perception  ;  but  if  the  common  doctrine  on 
the  fubjeA  be  juft,  it  is  the  refult  of  a  complex  ope- 
ration of  the  mind  ;  comprehending,  firft,  the  per- 
ception of  thofe  qualities,  which  are  the  proper  and 
originalobje(Els  of  fight ;  and,  fecondly,  the  concep- 
tion of  thofe  tangible  qualities  of  which  the  original 
perceptions  of  fight  are  found  from  experience  to  be 
the  figns.  The  notions,  therefore,  we  form,  by 
means  of  the  eye,  of  the  tangible  qualities  of  bodies, 
and  of  the  diftances  of  thefe  objeds  from  the  organ, 
are  mere  conceptions  ;  ftrongly,  and  indeed  indiflb- 
lubly,  aifociated,  by  early  and  conftant  habit,  with 
the  original  perceptions  of  fight. 

When  we  open  our  eyes  on  a  magnificent  profpect, 
the  various  diftances  at  which  all  its  different  parts 
are  placed  from  the  eye,  and  the  immenfe  extent  of 
the  whole  fcene  before  us,  feems  to  be  perceived  as 
immediately,  and  as  inftantaneoufly,  by  the  mind,  as 
the  coloured  furface  which  is  painted  on  the  retina. 
The  truth,  however,  unqueftionahly  is,  that  this  va- 
riety of  diftance,  and  this  immenfity  of  extent,  are 
not  objects  of  fenfe  but  of  conception  ;  and  the  no- 
tions we  form  of  them  when  our  eyes  are  open,  dif- 
fer from  thofe  we  fliould  form  of  them  with  our 
eyes  fhut,  only  in  this,  that  they  are  kept  fteadily  in 
the  view  of  the  mind,  by  being  ftrongly  affociated 
with  the  fenfations  of  colour,  and  with  the  original 
perceptions  of  fight. — This  obfervation  will  be  the 
more  readily  admitted,  if  it  be  confidered,  that,  by 
a  Ikilful  imitation  of  a  natural  landfcape,  in  a  com- 
mon  fhew-box,  the  mind  may  be  led  to  form  the 
fame  notions  of  variety  of  diftance,  and  even  of  im- 
menfe extent,  as  if  the  original  fcene  were  prefented 
to  our  fenfes  :  and  that,  although,  in  this  cafe,  we 
have  a  fpeculative  convidion  that  the  fphere  of  our 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND. 


vifion  only  extends  to  a  few  inches  ;  yet  fo  tv 
is  the  airociation  between  the  original  perceptions^ 
fight,  and  the  conceptions  which  they  habitually  pr6. 
duce,  that  it  is  not  poffible  for  us,  by  any  effort  or 
our  will,  to  prevent  thefe  conceptions  from  taking 
place. 

From  thefe  obfervations  it  appears,  that  when  the 
conceptions  of  the  mind  are  rendered  fteady  and 
permanent,  by  being  ftrongly  affociated  with  any 
fenfible  impreflion,  they  command  our  belief  no  lefs 
than  our  aciual  perceptions  ;  and,  therefore,  if  it 
were  poffible  for  us,  with  our  eyes  fhut,  to  keep  up, 
for  a  length  of  time,  the  conception  of  any  fenfible 
object,  we  fhould,  as  long  as  this  effort  continued,  be- 
lieve that  the  objed:  was  prefent  to  our  fenfes. 

It  appears  to  me  to  be  no  flight  confirmation  of 
thefe  remarks,  that  although,  in  the  dark,  the  illu- 
fions  of  imagination  are  much  more  liable  to  be  mif- 
taken  for  realities,  than  when  their  momentary  ef- 
feds  on  the  belief  are  continually  checked  and  cor- 
reded  by  the  objects  which  the  light  of  day  prefents 
to  our  perceptions ;  yet,  even  total  darknefs  is  not 
fo  alarming  to  a  perfon  impreifed  with  the  vulgar 
ftories  of  apparitions,  as  a  faint  and  doubtful  twilight, 
which  affords  to  the  conceptions  an  opportunity  of 
fixing  and  prolonging  their  exiflence,  by  attaching 
themfelves  to  fomething  which  is  obfcurely  exhibit- 
ed to  the  eye. — In  like  manner,  when  we  look 
through  a  fog,  we  are  frequently  apt  to  miflake  a 
crow  For  a  man  ;  and  the  conception  we  have,  upon 
fuch  an  occafion,  of  the  human  figure,  is  much  more 
diflind  and  much  more  fleady,  than  it  would  be  poffi- 
ble for  us  to  form,  if  we  had  no  fenfible  object  before 
us  ;  infomuch  that  when  on  a  more  attentive  obferva- 
tion,  the  crow  fhrinks  to  its  own  dimenfions,  we  iind 
it  impoffible,  by  any  effort, to  conjure  up  the  phantom 
which  a  moment  before  we  feemed  to  perceive. 

If  thefe  obfervations  are  admitted,  the  effects  which 


J  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

exhibitions  of  fictitious  diftrefs  produce  on  the  mind, 
will  appear  lefs  wonderful,  than  they  are  fuppofed  to 
be.  During  the  reprefentation  of  a  tragedy,  I  ac- 
knowledge, that  we  have  a  general  conviction  that 
the  whole  is  a  fidion  ;  but,  I  believe,  it  will  be  found, 
that  the  violent  emotions  which  are  fometimes  pro- 
duced by  the  diftrelTes  of  the  ftage,  take  their  rife, 
in  moft  cafes,  from  a  momentary  belief,  that  the  dif- 
treffes  are  real.  I  fay,  in  moft  cafes  ;  becaufe  I  ac- 
knowledge, that  independently  of  any  fuch  belief, 
there  is  fomething  contagious  in  a  faithful  exprefflon 
of  any  of  the  pailions. 

The  emotions  produced  by  tragedy  are,  upon  this 
fuppofition,  fomewhat  analogous  to  the  dread  we 
feel  when  we  look  down  from  the  battlement  of  a 
tower.*  In  both  cafes,  we  have  a  general  conviction, 
that  there  is  no  ground  for  the  feelings  we  experi* 
ence  ;  but  the  momentary  influences  of  imagination 
are  fo  powerful  as  to  produce  thefe  feelings,  before 
reflection  has  time  to  come  to  our  relief. 

*  With  respect  to  the  dread  which  we  feel  in  looking  down 
from  the  battlement  of  a  tower,  it  is  curious  to  remark  the  effects 
of  habit  in  gradually  destroying  it.  The  manner  in  which  habit 
operates  in  this  case,  seems  to  be  by  giving  us  a  command  over  our 
thoughts,  so  as  to  enable  as  to  withdraw  our  attention  from  the 
precipice  before  us,  and  direct  it  to  any  other  object  at  pleasure. 
It  is  thus  that  the  mason  and  the  sailor  not  only  can  take  precau- 
tions for  their  own  safety,  but  remain  completely  masters  of  them- 
selves in  situations  where  other  men,  engrossed  with  their  imagi- 
nary danger,  would  experience  a  total  suspension  of  their  faculties, 
x^ny  strong  passion  which  occupies  the  mind  produces,  for  the  mo- 
ment, the  same  effect  with  habit.  A  person  alarmed  with  the  ap- 
prehension of  fire,  has  been  known  to  escape  from  the  top  of  a  house, 
by  a  path  which,  at  another  time,  he  would  have  considered  as 
impracticable  ;  and  soldiers,  in  mounting  a  breach,  are  said  to  have 
sometimes  found  their  way  to  the  enemy,  by  a  route  which  ap.- 
peared  inaccessiMe  after  their  violent  passions  had  subsided. 


I 

OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  13? 

CHAPTER  FOURTR 

Of  AhJiraEiion. 

SECTION  I. 

General  obfervations  on  this  Faculty  of  the  Mind. 

THE  origin  of  appellative,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
t)rigin  of  thofe  clalTes  of  objedls  which,  in  the  fchools, 
are  called  genera^  2Lndfpecies,  has  been  confidered  by 
fome  philofophers  as  one  of  the  moft  difficult  prob- 
lems in  metaphyfics.  The  account  of  it  which  is 
given  by  Mr.  Smith,  in  his  Diflertation  on  the  Ori- 
gin of  Languages,  appears  to  me  to  be  equally  fimple 
and  fatisfaclory. 

"  The  aflignation'*  (fays  he)  "  of  particular  names, 
*'  to  denote  particular  objeds  ;  that  is,  the  inftitution 
*'  of  nouns  fubftantive  ;  would  probably  be  one  of 
"  the  firft  fteps  towards  the  formation  of  Language. 
*'  The  particular  cave,  whofe  covering  fheltered  the 
**  favage  from  the  weather  ;  the  particular  tree, 
*'  whofe  fruit  relieved  his  hunger  ;  the  particular 
"  fountain,  whofe  water  allayed  his  thiril  ;  would 
*'  firft  be  denominated  by  the  words,  cave,  tree,  foun- 
*'  tain  ;  or  by  whatever  other  appellations  he  might 
*'  think  proper,  in  that  primitive  jargon,  to  mark 
*'  them.  Afterwards,  when  the  more  enlarged  ex- 
**  perience  of  this  f  ivage  had  led  him  to  obferve, 
*'  and  his  neceffary  occafions  obliged  him  to  make 
"  mention  of,  other  caves,  and  other  trees,  and  other 
"  fountains  ;  he  would  naturally  beftow  upon  each 
*'  of  thofe  new  objeds,  the  fame  name  by  which  he 
*''  had  been  accuftomed  to  exprefs  the  fimilar  objed 
S 


1S8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  he  was  firft  acquainted  with.  And  thus,  thofe 
**  woods,  which  were  originally  the  proper  names  of 
"  individuals,  would  each  of  them  infenfibly  become 
"  the  common  name  of  a  multitude."* 

"  It  is  this  application"  (he  continues)  "  of  the 
*'  name  of  an  individual  to  a  great  number  of  obje<5ls, 
**  whofe  refemblance  naturally  recals  the  idea  of  that 
"  individual,  and  of  the  name  which  expreffes  it, 
"  that  feems  originally  to  have  given  occafion  to  the 
"  formation  of  thofe  clafles,  and  affortments,  which, 
*'  in  the  fchools,  are  called  genera  2iud /pedes  ;  and  of 
*'  which  the  ingenious  and  eloquent  Rouffeau  finds 
**  himfelf  fo  much  at  a  lofs  to  account  for  the  origin. 
"  What  conftitutes  a  /pedes,  is  merely  a  number  o'f 
*'  objeds,  bearing  a  certain  degree  of  refemblance  to 
*'  one  another  ;  and,  on  that  account,  denominated 
"  by  a  fingle  appellation,  which  may  be  applied  to 
*'  exprefs  any  one  of  them."t 

This  view  of  the  natural  progrefs  of  the  mind,  in 
forming  claflifications  of  external  obje<5ls,  receives 
fome  illuftration  from  a  fad  mentioned  by  Captain 
Cook  in  his  account  of  a  fmall  illand  called  Wateeoo, 
which  he  vifited  in  failing  from  New  Zealand  to  the 
Friendly  iflands.  "  The  inhabitants,"  fays  he,  were 
"  afraid  to  come  near  our  cows  and  horfes,  nor  did 
"  they  form  the  leaft  conception  of  their  nature, 
"  But  the  flieep  and  goats  did  not  furpafs  the  limits 

*  The  same  account  of  the  progress  of  the  mind  in  the 
formation  of  genera,  is  given  by  the  Abbe  de  Condillac. 

**  Un  enfant  appelle  du  nom  cl^Arl/re  le  premier  arbre 
"  que  Hvous  lui  montfons.  Un  second  arbre  qu'il  voit  en- 
'^  suite  lui  rapelle  la  meme  idee  ;  il  lui  donne  le  meme 
"  nom  ;  de  meme  a  un  troisieme,  a  un  quatrieme,  et  voila 
"  le  mot  d"* Arbre  donne  d'abord  a  un  individu,  qui  devient 
**  pDUf  lui  un  nom  de  classe  ou  de  g.  nre,  une  idee  abstraite 
"  qui  comprend  tous  les  arbres  en  general." 

f  Dissertation  on  the  Origin  of  Languages,  annexed  t^ 
Mr.  Smith's  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 


OP  THE  HUMAN  MIN1>.  139 

'^  of  their  ideas  ;  for  they  gave  us  to  unclerftand  that 
"  they  knew  them  to  be  birds.  It  will  appear^"  he 
adds, "rather  incredible, that  human  ignorance  could 
"  ever  make  fo  ilrange  a  miftake,  there,  not  being 
"  the  moft  diftant  limilitude  between  a  fheep  or 
"  goat,  and  any  winged  animal.  But  thefe  people 
"  feemed  to  know  nothing  of  the  exiftence  of  any 
*'  other  land  animals,  befides  hogs,  dogs,  and  birds. 
"  Our  (heep  and  goats,  they  could  fee,  were  very 
"  different  creatures  from  the  two  firfl,  and  therefore 
"  they  inferred  that  they  muft  belong  to  the  latter 
"  clafs,  in  which  they  knew  that  there  is  a  conlider- 
*'  able  variety  of  fpecies.*' — I  would  add  to  Cook's 
very  judicious  remarks,  that  the  miftake  of  thefe 
iflanders  probably  did  not  arife  from  their  coniider- 
ing  a  flieep  or  a  goat  as  bearing  a  more  ftriking  re- 
femblance  to  a  bird,  than  to  the  two  claffes  of  quad- 
rupeds with  which  they  were  acquainted  ;  but  to 
the  want  of  a  generic  word,  fuch  as  quadruped^  com- 
prehending thefe  two  fpecies  ;  which  men  in  their 
fituation  would  no  more  be  led  to  form,  than  a  per- 
fon  who  had  only  feen  one  individual  of  each  fpecies, 
would  think  of  an  appellative  to  exprefs  both,  inftead 
of  applying  a  proper  name  to  each.  In  confequence 
of  the  variety  of  birds,  it  appears,  that  they  had  a 
generic  name  comprehending  all  of  them,  to  which 
it  was  not  unnatural  for  them  to  refer  any  new  ani- 
mal  they  met  with. 

The  claflihcatiou  of  different  objects  fuppofes  a 
power  of  attending  to  fome  of  their  qualities  or  at- 
tributes, without  attending  to  the  reft  ;  fi)r  no  two 
objects  are  to  be  found  without  fome  fpecific  differ- 
ence ;  and  no  affortment  or  arrangement  can  bo  for- 
med among  things  not  perfectly  alike,  but  by  lofing 
fight  of  their  diftinguifhing  peculiarities,  and  limit- 
ing the  attention  to  thofc  attributes  which  belong 
to  tliem  in  common.  Indeed,  without  this  power 
of  attending  feparately  to  things  which  our  feiifes 


140  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

prefent  to  us  in  a  ftate  of  union,  we  never  could  have 
had  any  idea  of  number  ;  for,  before  we  can  confider 
different  objeds  as  forming  a  multitude,  it  is  necef- 
fa:  y  that  we  fhould  be  able  to  apply  to  ail  of  them 
one  common  name  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  we 
fliould  reduce  them  all  to  the  fame  genus.  The  va- 
rious objeds,  for  example,  animate  and  inanimate, 
which  are,  at  this  moment,  before  me,  I  may  clafs  and 
number  in  a  variety  of  different  ways,  according  to 
the  view  of  them  that  I  chufe  to  take.  I  may  reckon 
fuccellively  the  number  of  (heep,  of  cows,  of  horfes, 
of  elms,  of  oaks,  of  beeches  ;  or  I  may  firft  reckon 
the  number  of  animals,  and  then  the  number  of 
trees  ;  or  I  may  at  once  reckon  the  number  of  all 
the  organized  fubftances  which  my  fenfes  prefent  to 
me.  But  whatever  be  the  principle  on  which  my 
claflification  proceeds,  it  is  evident,  that  the  objeds 
numbered  together,  muft  be  conlidered  in  thofe  re- 
fpecls  only  in  which  they  agree  with  each  other ; 
and  that  it  I  had  no  power  of  feparating  the  combi- 
nations of  fenfe,  I  never  could  have  conceived  them 
as  forming  a  plurality. 

Ihis  power  of  confidering  certain  qualities  or  at- 
tributes of  an  objecl  apart  from  the  refl  ;  or,  as  I 
would  rather  chufe  to  define  it,  the  power  which  the 
underftanding  has,  of  feparating  the  combinations 
which  are  prefented  to  it,  is  diflinguifhed  by  logi- 
cians by  the  name  of  abjiradion.  It  has  been  fup- 
pofed,  by  fome  philofophers,  (with  what  probability 
I  fhall  not  now  inquire,)  to  form  the  characleriftical 
attribute  of  a  rational  nature.  That  it  is  one  of  the 
moil  important  of  all  our  faculties,  and  very  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  exercife  of  our  reafoning 
powers,  is  beyond  difpute.  And,  I  flatter  myfelf,  it 
will  appear  from  the  fequel  of  this  chapter,  how 
much  the  proper  management  of  it  conduces  to  the 
fucccfs  of  our  philofophical  purfuits,  and  of  our  gen- 
eral condud  in  life. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  141 

The  fubferviency  of  Abftraclion  to  the  power  of 
Reafoiiing,  and  alfo,  its  fubferviency  to  the  exertiv>ns 
of  a  Poetical  or  Creative  Imagination,  (hall  be  after- 
wards fully  illuftrated.  At  prefent,  it  is  fufEcient 
for  my  purpofe  to  remark,  that  as  abftra<5lion  is  the 
ground- work  of  claffification,  without  this  faculty 
of  the  mind  we  Ihould  have  been  perfectly  incapable 
of  general  fpeculation,  and  all  our  knowledge  muft 
necefTarily  have  been  limited  to  individuals  ;  and 
that  fome  of  the  moft  ufeful  branches  of  fcience, 
particularly  the  different  branches  of  mathematics, 
in  which  the  very  fubjects  of  our  reafoning  are  ab- 
ftraclions  of  the  underftanding,  could  never  have 
poilibly  had  an  exiftence.  With  refped  to  the 
fubferviency  of  this  faculty  to  poetical  imagination, 
it  is  no  lefs  obvious,  that,  as  the  poet  is  fupplied 
with  all  his  materials  by  experience ;  and  as  his 
province  is  limited  to  combine  and  modify  things 
which  really  exift,  fo  as  to  produce  new  wholes  of 
his  own  ;  fo  every  exertion  which  he  thus  makes  of 
his  powers,  prefuppofes  the  exercife  of  abftraclion 
in  decompohng  and  feparating  actual  combinations. 
And  it  was  on  this  account,  that,  in  the  chapter  on 
Conception,  I  was  led  to  make  a  diftinclion  between 
that  faculty,  which  is  evidently  hmple  and  uncom- 
pounded,  and  the  power  of  Imagination,  which  (at 
leaft  in  the  fenfe  in  which  I  employ  the  word  in 
thefe  inquiries)  is  the  refult  of  a  combination  of  va- 
rious other  powers. 

I  have  introduced  thefe  remarks,  in  order  to  point 
out  a  difference  between  the  -ibflradions  which  are 
fubfervient  to  reafoning,  and  vhofe  which  are  lubfer- 
vient  to  imagination.  And,  if  I  am  not  miftaken,it  is 
a  diflindion  which  has  not  been  fufHcientiy  attended 
to  by  fome  writers  of  eminence.  In  every  inlf  ance  in 
which  imagination  is  employed  in  forming  new 
wholes,  by  decompounding  and  combining  the  per- 
ceptions of  fenfe,  it  is  evidently  nccelTary  that  the 


142  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

poet  or  the  painter  fhould  be  able  to  ftate  to  him- 
felf  the  circumftances  abftracled,  as  feparate  objeds 
of  conception.  But  this  is  by  no  means  requifite  in 
every  cafe  in  which  abftradion  is  fubfervient  to  the 
power  of  reafoning  ;  for  it  frequently  happens,  that 
we  can  reafon  concerning  one  quality  or  property 
of  an  objedl  abftracted  from  the  reft,  while,  at  the 
fame  time,  we  find  it  impoflible  to  conceive  it  fepa- 
rately.  Thus,  I  can  reafon  concerning  extenfion 
and  figure,  without  any  reference  to  color  ;  although 
it  may  be  doubted,  if  a  perfon  poifefled  of  fight  can 
make  extenfion  and  figure  fteady  objects  of  concep- 
tion, without  conneding  with  th^m  one  color  or 
another.  Nor  is  this  always  owing  (as  it  is  in  the 
inftance  now  mentioned)  merely  to  the  affociatiou 
of  ideas ;  for  there  are  cafes,  in  which  we  can  r6afon 
concerning  things  leparately,  which  it  is  impoffible 
for  us  to  fuppofe  any  being  fo  conftituted  as  to  con- 
ceive apart.  Thus,  we  can  reafon  concerning 
length,  abftracled  from  any  other  dimenfion  ;  al- 
though, furely,  no  underftanding  can  make  length, 
without  breadth,  an  object  of  conception.  And,  by 
the  way,  this  leads  me  to  take  notice  of  an  error, 
which  mathematical  teachers  are  apt  to  commit,  in 
explaining  the  firft  principles  of  geometry.  By 
dwelling  long  on  Euclid's  firft  definitions,  they  lead 
the  ftudent  to  fuppofe  that  they  relate  to  notions 
which  are  extremely  myfterious  ;  and  to  ftrain  his 
powers  in  fruitlefs  attempts  to  conceive,  what  cannot 
poffibly  be  made  an  objed:  of  conception.  If  thefe 
definitions  were  omitted,  or  very  flightly  touched 
upon,  and  the  attention  at  once  directed  to  geomet- 
rical reafonings,  the  ftudent  would  immediately  per- 
ceive, that  although  the  lines  in  the  diagrams  are 
really  extended  in  two  dimenfions,  yet  that  the  de- 
monftrations  relate  only  to  one  of  them  ;  and  that 
the  human  underftanding  has  the  faculty  of  reafon- 
ing concerning  things  feparately,  which  are  always 


OP  THE  ITUMAN  MIND.  14S 

prefented  to  us,  both  by  our  powers  of  perception 
and  conception,  in  a  ftate  of  union.  Such  abftrac- 
tions,  in  truth,  are  familiar  to  the  moft  illiterate  of 
mankind  ;  and  it  is  in  this  very  way  that  they  are 
infenfibly  formed.  When  a  tradefman  fpeaks  of  the 
length  of  a  ruom,  in  contradillindion  to  its  breadth  ; 
or  when  he  fpeaks  of  the  diftance  between  any  two 
objeds ;  he  forms  exa<Elly  the  fame  abftraclion, 
which  is  referred  to  by  Euclid  in  his  fecond  defini- 
tion ;  and  which  moft  of  his  commentators  have 
thought  it  neceffiry  to  jlluftrate  by  prolix  meta- 
phyfical  difquilitions. 

I  fhall  only  obferve  farther,  with  refpe^l  to  the  na- 
ture and  province  of  this  faculty  of  the  mind,  that 
notwithflanding  its  elTential  fubferviency  to  every  a£t 
of  claffification,  yet  it  might  have  been  exercifed,  al- 
though we  had  only  been  acquainted  with  one  indi- 
vidual objed.  Although,  for  example,  we  had  nev. 
er  feen  but  one  rofe,  we  might  ftill  have  been  able 
to  attend  to  its  color,  without  thinking  of  its  other 
properties.  This  has  led  fome  philofophers  to  fup- 
pofe,  that  another  faculty  befides  abftradion,  to 
which  they  have  given  the  name  of  generalization, 
is  neceffary  to  account  for  the  formation  of  genera 
and  fpecies  ;  and  they  have  endeavored  to  fhew, 
that  although  generalization  without  abftradion  is 
impoflible  ;  yet  that  we  might  have  been  fo  formed, 
as  to  be  aWe  to  abftradl,  without  being  capable  of 
generalizing.  The  grounds  of  this  opinion,  it  is  not 
neceffary  for  me  to  examine,  for  any  of  the  purpof- 
66  which  I  have  at  prefent  in  view. 


144  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 


SECTION  ir. 

Of  the  ObjeSls  of  our  Thoughts^  when  we  employ  general 
Terms. 

FROM  the  account  which  was  given  in  a  former 
chapter,  of  the  common  theories  of  perception,  it 
appears  to  have  been  a  prevailing  opinion  among 
philofophers,  that  the  qualities  of  external  objects 
are  perceived,  by  means  of  images  or  fpecies  tranf- 
mitted  to  the  mind  by  the  organs  of  fenfe  :  an  opin- 
ion of  which  I  already  endeavored  to  trace  the  ori- 
gin, from  certain  natural  prejudices  fuggelled  by 
the  phenomena  of  the  material  world,  rhe  fame 
train  of  thinking  has  led  them  to  fuppofe  that,  in 
the  cafe  of  all  our  other  intelledual  operations,  there 
exift  in  the  mind  certain  ideas  diftin6t  from  the 
minditfelf;  and  that  thefe  ideas  are  the  objeds  a- 
bout  which  our  thoughts  are  employed.  When  I 
recollect,  for  example,  the  appearance  of  an  abfent 
friend,  it  is  fuppofed  that  the  immediate  objc£l  of 
my  thought  is  an  idea  of' my  friend  ;  which  I  at  firft 
received  by  my  fenfes,  and  which  I  have  been  ena- 
bled to  retain  in  the  mind  by  the  faculty  of  memo- 
ry. When  I  form  to  myfelf  any  imaginary  combi- 
nation by  an  effort  of  poetical  invention,  it  is  fup- 
pofed in  like  manner,  that  the  parts  which  I  com- 
bine, exV*ed  previoufly  in  the  mind ;  and  furnifh 
the  materials  on  wliich  it  is  the  province  of  imagin- 
ation to  operate.  It  is  to  Dr.*  Reid  we  owe  the  im- 
portant remark,  that  all  thefe  notions  are  wholly 
hypothetical ;  that  it  is  impoiTible  to  produce  a  fiiad- 
ow  of  evidence  in  fupport  of  them  ;  and  that,  even 
although  we  were  to  admit  their  truth,  they  would 
not  render  the  phenomena  in  queflion  more  intelli- 
gible. According  to  his  principles,  therefore,  we 
have  no  ground  for  fuppofing,  that^  in  any  one  op- 


J 


©F  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  145 

eration  of  the  mind,  there  exifts  in  it  an  objed  dif- 
tinct  from  the  mind  itfelf ;  and  all  the  common  ex- 
preflions  which  involve  fuch  a  fuppofition  are  to  be 
confidered  as  unmeaning  circumlocutions,  which 
ferve  only  to  dlfguife  from  us  the  real  hittory  of  the 
intelledlual  phenomena.* 

♦  In  order  to  prevent  misapprehensions  of  Dr.  Reid's  meaning, 
in  his  reasonings  against  the  ideal  theory,  it  may  be  necessary  to 
explain,  a  little  more  fully  tlian  I  have  done  in  the  text,  in  what 
sense  he  calls  in  question  the  existence  of  idecv  ;  for  the  meaning 
which  this  word  is  employed  to  convey  in  popular  discourse,  di£ 
fers  widely  from  that  whicli  is  annexed  to  it  by  the  philosophers 
whose  opinion  he  controverts.  This  explanation  I  shall  give  in 
his  own  words: 

"  In  popular  language,  idea  signifies  the  same  thing  as  conoep- 
■**  tion,  apprehension,  notion.  To  have  an  idea  of  any  thir^g,  is 
**  to  conceive  it.  To  have  a  distinct  idea,  is  to  conceive  it  dis- 
*'  tmctly.  To  have  no  idea  of  it,  is  not  to  conceive  at  all. — When 
"  the  word  idea  is  taken  in  this  popular  sense,  no  man  can  possibly 
**  doubt  whether  he  has  ideas.'* 

"  According  to  the  philosophical  meaning  of  the  word  idea,  it 
"  does  not  signify  that  act  of  the  mind  which  we  call  thought,  or 
^*  conception,  but  some  object  of  thought.  Of  the^e  objects  of 
*'  thought  called  ideas,  different  sects  of  philosophers  have  given 
"  very  different  accounts." 

"  Some  have  held  them  to  be  self- existent;  others  to  be  in  the 
^^  divine  mind  ;  others  in  our  own  minds ;  a,nd  others  in  the  brain, 
**  Of  sensorium."  p.  213. 

*'  The  Peripatetic  system  of  ppecies  and  phantasms,  as  well  as 
"  the  Platonic  system  of  ideas,  is  grounded  upon  this  principle, 
*'  that  in  every  kind  of  thought,  there  must  be  some  object  that 
"  really  exists ;  in  every  operaiion  of  the  mind,  somtthir.g  to  work 
**  upon.  Whether  thi:.  'immediate  object  be  called  an  idea  with 
"  Plato,  or  a  phantasm  or  species  with  Aristotle;  whether  it  be 
«'  eternal  and  uncreated,  or  produced  by  the  impressions  of  external 
"  objfcLs,  is  of  no  consequence  in  the  present  argument."  Ibid. 
p.  -388. 

*'  So  much  is  this  opinion  fixed  in  the  minds  of  philosophers, 
•*  that,  1  doubt  not  but  it  will  appear  to  most,  a  very  strange  par- 
"  adox,  or  rather  a  contradiction,  that  men  should  think  without 
**  ideas.  But  this  appearance  of  contradiction  arises  from  the  am- 
*'  biguity  of  the  word  idea,  if  the  idea  of  a  thing  means  only  the 
"  thought  of  it,  which  is  the  most  common  meaning  of  the  word, 
•*  to  think  without  ideas,  is  to  think  without  thought;  which  is 

T 


146  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  We  are  ^t  a  lofs  to  know/'  (fay?  this  excellent 
philofopber,)  "  how  we  perceive  diftant  objeds  j 
*'  how  we  remember  things  pafl  ;  how  we  imagine 
"  things  that  have  no  exiftence.  Ideas  in  the  mind 
''  feem  to  account  for  all  thefe  operations  ;  they  are 
*'  all  by  the  means  of  ideas  reduced  to  one  opera- 
*'  tion  ;  to  a  kind  of  feeling,  or  immediate  percep- 
"  tion  of  things  prefent,  and  in  contad  with  the 
*'  percipient ;  and  feeling  is  an  operation  fo  famil- 
*'  iar,  that  we  think  it  needs  no  explanation,  but 
"  may  ferve  to  explain  other  operations." 

"  But  ihis  feeling,  or  immediate  perception,  is  as 
^'  difficult  to  be  comprehended,  as  the  things  which 
*'  we  pretend  to  explain  by  it.  Two  things  may  be 
*'  in  contact,  without  any  feeling  or  perception ; 
**  there  muft  therefore  be  in  the  percipient,  a  power 
*'  to  feel,  or  to  perceive.  How  this  power  is  produ- 
*'  ced,  and  how  it  operates,  is  quite  beyond  the  reach 
*'  of  oUr  knowledge.  As  little  can  we  know,  wheth- 
"  er  this  power  muft  be  limited  to  things  prefent, 
*'  and  in  contact  with  us.  Neither  can  any  man 
'^  pretend  to  prove,  that  the  Being  who  gave  us  the 
*'  power  to  perceive  things  prefent,  may  not  give 
*'  us  the  power  to  perceive  thii.gs  diftant,  to  remem- 
"  ber  things  paft,  and  to  conceive  things  that  never 
«  exifted.*'* 

In  another  part  of  his  work,  Dr.  Reid  has  occafion 

"  undoubtedly  a  oontradiction.  But  an  idea,  according  to  the  def- 
"  inition  given  oi  it  by  philosophers,  is  not  thought,  but  an  object 
*'  of  thought,  which  really  exists,  and  is  perceived,  &c."  Ibid.  p. 
890. 

I  have  only  to  add,  that  when,  in  this  work,  I  make  use  of  the 
word  idea  in  stating  my  own  opinions,  I  employ  it  uniformly  in  the- 
popular  sense,  and  not  in  the  philosophical  sense,  as  now  explain- 
ed ;  it  would  be  better,  perhaps,  to  avoid  it  altogether  ;  but  1  have 
found  it  difficult  to  do  "^o,  without  adopting  unusual  niodes  of  ex- 
pression.    I  flatter  myself  that  1  have  used  it  with  due  caution, 

*  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers,  p.  214. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  14? 

to  trace  the  origin  of  the  prejudice  which  has  led  phi- 
lofophers  to  fuppofe,  that,  in  all  the  operations  of  the 
underftanding,  there  muft  be  an  objed  of  thought, 
which  really  exitls  while  we  think  of  it.  His  re- 
marks on  this  fubjedl,  which  are  highly  ingenious 
and  fatisfadory,  are  contained  in  his  account  of  the 
different  theories  concerning  conception.* 

As  in  all  the  ancient  metaphyfical  fyftems  it  was 
taken  for  granted,  (probably  from  the  analogy  of 
©ur  external  perceptions,)  that  every  exertion  of 
thought  implies  the  exiftence  of  an  objed:  diftinct 
from  the  thinking  being  ;  it  naturally  occurred,  as 
a  very  curious  queftion.  What  is  the  immediate  ob- 
jed  of  our  attention,  when  we  are  engaged  in  any 
general  fpeculation  ?  or,  in  other  words,  what  is  the 
nature  of  the  idea  correfponding  to  a  general  term? 
When  I  think  of  any  particular  obje<5t  which  I  have 
formerly  perceived,  fuch  as  a  particular  friend,  a  par- 
ticular tree,  or  a  particular  mountain,  lean  compre- 
hend what  is  meant  by  a  picture  or  reprefentatioa 
of  fuch  objects  ;  and  therefore  the  explanation  giv- 
en by  the  ideal  theory  of  that  act  of  the  mind  which 
we  formerly  called  Conception,  if  not  perfectly  fatis- 
fadtory,  is  at  leaft  not  wholly  unintelligible.  But 
what  account  Ihall  we  give,  upon  the  principles  of 
this  theory,  of  the  objeds  of  my  thoughts,  when  I 
employ  the  words,  friend,  tree,  mountain,  as  gener- 
ic terms  ?  For,  that  all  the  things  I  have  ever  per- 
ceived are  individuals  ;  and  confequently,  that  the 
ideas  denoted  by  general  words,  (if  luch  ideas  exift,) 
are  not  copied  from  any  originals  that  have  fallen 
under  my  obfervation  ;  is  not  only  felf-evident,  but 
almoft  an  identical  propoiition. 

In  anfwer  to  this  queftion,  the  Platonifts,  and  at  a 
ftill  earlier  period,  the  Pythagoreans,  taught,  that, 
although  thefe  univerfal   ideas  are  not  copied  from 

*  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers,  p.  378, 


148  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

any  objects  perceivable  by  fenfe,  yet  that  they  have 
an  exiltence  independent  of  the  human  mind,  and 
are  no  more  to  be  confounded  with  the  underlland- 
iiig,  of  which  they  are  the  proper  objects,  than  ma- 
terial things  are  to  be  confounded  with  our  pr  w- 
ers  of  external  perception  :  that  as  all  the  individu- 
als which  compofe  a  genus,  muft  polTefs  fomething 
in  common  ;  and  as  it  is  in  confequence  of  this,  that 
they  belong  to  that  genus,  and  are  diftinguifhable 
by  the  fame  name,  this  comn.on  thing  forms  the  ef- 
fence  of  each  ;  and  is  the  objed  of  the  underftand- 
ing,  when  we  reafon  concerning  the  genus.  They 
maintained  alfo,  that  this  con  mon  efl'ence,*  not- 
withftanding  its  infeparable  union  with  a  m>uititude 
of  different  individuals,  is  in  itfelf  one,  and  indivifi- 
ble. 

On  mod  of  thefe  points,  the  philofophy  of  Arlf- 
totle  feems  to  have  coincided  very  nearly  with  that 
of  Plato.  The  language,  ho v  ever,  which  thefe  phi- 
lofophers  employed  on  this  lubjed  was  different, 
^nd  gave  to  their  doctrines  the  appearance  of  a  wid- 
er diverfiiy  than  probably  exilled  between  their  o- 
pinions.  While  Plato  was  led,  by  his  pailion  for 
the  marvellous  and  the  myfterious,  to  inlift  on  the 
incomprehenfible  union  of  the  fam.e  idea  or  eifence, 
with  a  number  of  individuals,  without  multiplication 
or  divifion  ;!  Ariilotle,  more  cautious,  and  aiming  at 

*  In  this  very  imperfect  sketch  of  the  opinions  of  the  ancients 
concerning  universalt-^  I  have  substituted,  instead  of  the  word  i^^^?, 
the  ord  esse^Ke,  as  better  fitted  to  convey  to  a  n  odern  reader  the 
true  import  of  Plato's  expressions.  1  he  word  emntta  is  said  to  have 
hf en  lirst  emplo}  ed  by  Cicero  ;  and  it  was  afterwards  adopted  by 
the  schoolmen,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  the  Platonists  uted  the 
word  idea.  See  Dr.  Keid's  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers,  page 
473. 

t  '*  The  idea  of  a  thing,"  (says  Plato,)  "  is  that  w  hich  makes 
**  Q7ie  of  the  nic.r.y  ;  which,  preserving  the  unity  ard  inrcgrity  ol  its 
"  own    nature,  runs  through  and  mixes  with  things  it^inite  jn 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  149 

greater  perfpicuity,  contented  himfelf  with  faying, 
that  all  individuals  are  compofed  of  maiter  and 
form;  and  that  it  is  in  confequence  of  poiTefli  cr  a 
common  form,  that  different  individuals  belong  to 
the  fame  genus.  But  they  both  agreed,  that,  as  the 
matter,  or  the  individual  natures  of  objects  were  per- 
ceived by  fenfe  ;  fo  the  general  idea,  or  effence,  or 
form,  was  perceived  by  the  intellect ;  and  that,  as 
the  attention  of  the  vulgar  was  chiefly  engrolTed  with 
the  former,  fo  the  latter  furnifhed  to  the  philofopher 
the  materials  of  his  fpeculations. 

The  chief  difference  between  the  opinions  of  Plato 
and  Ariftotle  on  the  fubjedt  of  ideas,  related  to  the 
mode  of  their  exiftence.  That  the  matter  of  which 
all  things  are  made,  exifted  from  eternity,  was  a 
principle  which  both  admitted  ;  but  Plato  farther 
taught,  that,  of  every  fpecies  of  things,  there  is  an 
idea  or  form  which  alfo  exifted  from  eternity ;  and 
that  this  idea  is  the  exemplar  or  model  according  to 
which  the  individuals  of  the  fpecies  were  made  ; 
whereas  Ariftotle  held,  that,  although  matter  may 
exift  without  form,  yet  that  forms  could  not  exift 
without  matter.* 

<*  numbpr ;  and  yet,  however  multiform  it  may  appear,  is  always 
"  the  same  •  so  that  by  it  we  find  out  and  discriminate  the  thing, 
**  whatever  shapes  it  may  assume,  and  under  whatever  disguise  it 
**  may  cunceal  itself." — Flaio  in  Philebo  ;  (q  loted  by  ttje  Au- 
thor of  the  Origin  and  progress  of  Language,  vol.  i.  p.  100,  2d 
edit.) 

*  In  this  axjcour^t  of  the  difference  betweeit  Plato  and  Aristotle 
on  the  subject  of  ideas,  1  have  chiefly  followed  Brucker,  whose 
-very  laborious  researches  with  respect  to  'his  article  of  the  history- 
Of  philosophy  are  well  known.  In  stating  the  distinction,  how- 
ever, I  have  confined  myself  to  as  general  terms  as  possible  ;  as 
tlie  subject  is  involved  in  much  obscurity,  and  has  divided  the 
opinions  of  verv  eminent  writers.  The  reader  will  find  the  result 
of  Brucker's  inquiries,  in  his  own  words,  in  Note  QF.3 

The  authority  of  Brucker,  in  this  instance,  has  the  more  weight 


150  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

The  dodrine  of  the  Stoics  concerning  univerfals, 
differed  widely  from  thofe  both  of  Plato  and  Arifto- 
tle,  and  feems  to  have  approached  to  a  fpeculation 
which  is  commonly  fuppofed  to  be  of  a  more  recent 
origin,  and  which  an  eminent  philofopher  of  the  pref- 
ent  age  has  ranked  among  the  difcoveries  which  do 
the  greateft  honour  to  modern  genius.* 

Whether  this  doctrine  of  the  Stoics  coincided  en* 
tirely  with  that  of  the  Nominalifts,  (whofe  opinions 
I  fhall  afterwards  endeavour  to  explain,)  or  whether 
it  did  not  refemble  more,  a  doctrine  maintained  by 
another  feci  of  fchoolmen  called  Conceptualifts,  I  fhall 
not  inquire.  The  determination  of  this  queftion  is 
interefiing  only  to  men  of  erudition  ;  for  the  knowl- 
edge we  pofTefs  of  this  part  of  the  Stoical  philofophy, 
is  too  imperfect  to  afllil  us  in  the  farther  profecution 
of  the  argument,  or  even  to  diminifh  the  merit  of 
thofe  philofophers  who  have,  in  modern  times,  been 
led  to  iimilar  conclufions.f 

with  me,  as  it  coincides  in  the  noost  material  respects  with  that  of 
Dr.  Reid.  See  his  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  and 
the  conclusion  of  his  Inquiry  into  the  Human  mind. 

A  very  different  account  of  Aristotle's  doctrine,  in  those  particu- 
lars in  which  it  is  commonly  supposed  to  differ  from  that  of  Plato, 
is  given  by  two  modern  writers  of  great  learning,  whose  opinions 
are  justly  entitled  to  much  respect,  from  their  familiar  acquaintance 
with  Aristotle's  latter  Commentators  of  the  Alexandrian  School. 
— See  Origin  and  Progress  of  Language,  vol.  i.  and  Harris's 
Hermes. 

It  is  of  no  consequence,  for  any  of  the  purposes  which  I  have 
at  present  in  view,  what  opinion  we  form  on  this  much  contro- 
verted point  of  philosophical  history.  Ir;  so  far  as  the  ideal  theory 
was  an  attempt  to  explain  the  manner  in  which  our  general  spec- 
ulations are  carried  on,  it  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  the  doctrines 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle  were  essentially  the  same ;  and  accordingly, 
what  I  have  said  on  that  subject,  coincides  entirely  with  a  passage 
which  the  reader  will  find  in"  Origin  and  Progress  of  Language,'* 
vol.  i.  p.  33.  2d  edit. 

*  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  book  i.  part  i.  sect.  7. 

t  See  Note  [G.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  151 

As  it  IS  not  my  obje^l,  in  this  work,  to  enter  into 
hiftorical  details,  any  farther  than  is  neceflary  for  il- 
luftrating  the  fubjefts  of  which  I  treat,  I  (hall  pafs 
over  the  various  attempts  which  were  made  by  the 
Ecledic  philofophers,  (a  feci  which  arofe  at  Alexan- 
dria about  the  beginning  of  the  third  century,)  to 
reconcile  the  dodlrines  of  Piaro  and  Ariftotle  con- 
cerning ideas.  The  endlefs  difficulties,  it  would  ap- 
pear, to  which  their  fpeculations  led,  induced,  at  iaft, 
the  more  cautious  and  modeft  inquiries  to  banifh 
them  entirely  from  Dialedics,  and  to  content  them- 
felves  with  ftudying  the  arrangements  or  claflifica- 
tions  of  univerfals,  which  the  antient  philofophers 
had  made,  without  engaging  in  any  metaphyfical 
difquifitions  concerning  their  nature.  Porphyry,  in 
particular,  although  he  tells  us,  that  he  had  fpecula- 
ted  much  on  this  fubjecl ;  yet,  in  his  Introduction 
to  Ariftotle's  Categories,  waves  the  confideration  of 
it  as  obfcure  and  intricate.  On  fuch  queftions  as 
thefe  'y  "  Whether  genera  and  fpecies  exift  in  nature, 
"  or  are  only  conceptions  of  the  Human  Mind  ;  and 
*'  (on  the  fuppolition  that  they  exift  in  nature) 
**  whether  they  are  inherent  in  the  objedls  of  fenfe, 
*'  or  disjoined  from  them  ?"  he  declines  giving  any 
determination. 

This  paffage  in  Porphyry's  Introduction  is  an  ob- 
jed  of  curioiity ;  as,  by  a  fmgular  concurrence  of 
circumftances,  it  ferved  to  perpetuate  the  memory 
of  a  controverfy  from  which  it  was  the  author's  in- 
tention to  divert  the  inquiries  of  his  readers.  Amidft 
the  diforders  produced  by  the  irruptions  of  the  Bar- 
barians, the  knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue  was  al- 
moft  entirely  loft  ;  and  the  ftudies  of  philofophers 
were  confined  to  Latin  verfions  of  Ariftotle's  Di.'.lec- 
tics,  and  of  Porphyry's  Introduction  concerning  the 
Categories.  With  men  who  had  a  relifli  for  fuch 
difquifitions,  it  is  probable  that  the  pi^fiage  already 
quoted  from  Porphyry,  would  have  a  rendcncy  rath- 


152  ELEMENTS  OE  THE  l»mLOSOPHY 

er  to  excite  than  to  damp  curiofity  ;  and  according* 
ly,  we  have  reafon  to  believe,  that  the  controverfy 
to  which  it  relates  continued,  during  the  dark  ages, 
to  form  a  favourite  fuhject  of  diicullion.  The  opin- 
ion  which  was  prevalent  was,  (to  ufe  the  fcholafiic 
language  of  the  times,)  that  univerfals  do  not  exift 
before  things,  nor  after  things,  but  in  things  \  that  is, 
(if  I  may  be  allowed  to  attempt  a  commentary  upon 
expreffions  to  which  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to 
annex  very  precife  notions,)  univerfal  ideas  have  not 
(as  Plato  thought)  an  exiflence  feparable  from  indi- 
vidual objefts  ;  and,  therefore,  they  could  not  have 
exiiled  prior  to  them  in  the  order  of  time  ;  nor  yet, 
(according  to  the  dodlrine  of  the  Stoics,)  are  they 
mere  conceptions  of  the  mind,  formed  in  confequence 
of  an  examination  and  comparifon  of  particulars  ; 
but  thele  ideas  or  forms  are  from  eternity  unitedin* 
feparably  with  that  matter  of  which  things  confiit  ; 
©r,  as  the  Ariftotelians  fometimes  exprefs  themfelves, 
the  forms  of  things  are  from  eternity  immerfed  in 
matter. — The  reader  will,  I  hope,  forgive  me  for  en- 
tering into  thefe  details,  not  only  on  account  of  t^^eir 
connection  with  the  obfervations  which  are  to  follow; 
but  as  they  relate  to  a  controverfy  which,  for  maijy 
ages,  employed  all  the  ingenuity  and  learning  in  Eu- 
rope ;  and  which,  therefore,  however  frivolous  in  it- 
felf,  deferves  the  attention  of  phiioiophers,  as  one  of 
the  mod  curious  events  which  occurs  in  the  hiftory 
of  the  Human  Mind. 

Such  appears  to  have  been  the  prevailing  opinion 
concerning  the  nature  of  univerlals,  till  the  eleven tUj 
century ;  when  a  new  do6trinc,  or  (as  fome  autho 
think)  a  doctrine  borrowed  from  the  fchool  of  Zen( 
was  propofed  by  Rofcelinus  ;*  and  foon  after  ver 
widely  propagated  over  Europe  by  the  abilities  anj 
eloquence  of  oneof  hisfcholars,  the  celebrated  Pet( 

*  See  Note  [H.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  1^ 

Abelard.  According  to  thefe  philofophers,  there  are 
no  exiftences  in  nature  correfponding  to  general 
terms  ;  and  the  objeds  of  our  attention  in  all  our 
general  fpeculations  are  not  ideas,  but  words. 

In  confequence  of  this  new  doctrine,  the  fchoolmen 
gradually  formed  thenifelves  into  two  fedls  :  one  of 
which  attached  itfelf  to  the  opinions  of  Rofcelinus  and 
Abelard  ;  while  the  other  adhered  to  the  principles 
of  Aridotle.  Of  thefe  fecfs,  the  former  are  known 
in  literary  hiftory  by  the  name  of  the  Nominalifts  j 
the  latter  by  that  of  the  Realiils. 

As  it  is  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Nominalifts  that 
my  own  opinion  cm  this  fubject  coincides  ;  and  as  I 
propofe  to  deduce  from  it  fome  confequences,  which 
appear  to  me  important,  1  (hall  endeavor  to  ftate  it 
as  clearly  and  precifely  as  I  am  able,  purfuing,  how- 
ever, rather  the  train  of  my  own  thoughts,  than 
guided  by  the  reafonings  of  any  particular  author. 

I  formerly  explained  in  what  manner  the  words, 
which,  in  the  infancy  of  language,  were  proper 
names,  became  gradually  appellatives  ;  in  confe- 
quence of  which  extenlion  of  their  fignification,  they 
would  exprefs,  when  applied  to  individuals,  thofe 
qualities  only  which  are  common  to  the  whole  gen- 
us.  Now,  it  is  evident,  that,  with  refpedt  to  indi- 
viduals of  the  favne  genus,  there  are  two  clafles  of 
truths ;  the  one,  particular  truths  relating  to  each 
individual  ap2.rt,  and  deduced  from  a  confideration 
of  its  peculiar  and  diftinguifhing  properties  ;  the 
other,  general  truths,  deduced  trom  a  confideration 
of  their  common  qualities  ;  and  equally  applica- 
ble to  all  of  them.  Such  truths  may  be  conven- 
iently exprefled,  by  means  of  general  terms  j  fo  as 
to  form  propofitions,  comprehending  under  them  as 
many  particular  truths,  a^  there  are  individuals  com- 
prehended under  the  general  terms.  It  is  farther 
evident,  that  there  are  two  ways  in  which  fuch  gen- 
eral truths  may  be  obtained  ;  either  by  fixing  the 
U 


154  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

attention  on  one  individual,  in  fuch  a  manner  that 
our  reafoning  may  involve  no  circumftmces  but 
thofe  which  are  common  to  the  whole  genus  ;  or, 
(laying  afide  entirely  the  conlideration  of  things,)  by 
means  of  the  general  terms  with  which  language 
fuppl'es  us.  In  either  of  thefe  cafes,  our  inveftiga- 
tions  muft  neceffarily  lead  us  to  general  conclufions. 
In  the  firft  cafe  ;  our  attention  being  limited  to 
thofe  circumftances,  in  which  the  fubjecl  of  our  rea- 
foning refembles  all  other  individuals  of  the  fame 
genus,  whatever  we  demonftrate  with  refped:  to  this 
fubjecl  muft  be  true  of  every  other  to  which  the 
fame  attributes  belong.  In  the  fecond  cafe  ;  the 
fubjedt  of  our  reafoning  being  expreifed  by  a  generic 
word,  which  applies  in  common  to  a  number  of  in- 
dividuals, the  conclufion  we  form  muft  be  as  exten- 
five  in  its  application,  as  the  name  of  the  fubjecl  is  in 
its  meaning.  The  former  procefs  is  analogous  to 
the  pradice  of  geometers,  who  in  their  moft  general 
reafonings,  dired  the  attention  to  a  particular  dia- 
gram :  the  latter,  to  that  of  algebraifts,  who  carry 
on  their  inveftigations  by  means  of  fymbols.*  In  cafes 
of  this  laft  fort,  it  may  frequently  happen,  from  the 
affociation  of  ideas,  that  a  general  word  may  recal 
fome  one  individual  to  which  it  is  applicable  ;  but 
this  is  fo  far  from  being  neceifary  to  the  accuracy  of 
our  reafoning,  that,  excepting  in  fome  cafes,  in  which 
it  may  be  ufeful  to  check  us  in  the  abufe  of  general 

*  These  two  iivetliods  of  obtaining  general  truths  proceed  on 
the  same  principles ;  and  are  in  fact,  much  less  different  from  each 
other,  than  they  appear  tp  be,  at  first  view.  When  we  carry  on 
a  process  of  general  reasoning,  by  fixing  our  attention  on  a  partic- 
ular individual  of  a  genus,  this  individual  is  to  be  considered  merely 
as  a  sign  or  representative  ;  and  differs  from  any  other  sign  only  m 
this,  that  it  bears  a  certain  retsemblance  to  the  things  it  denotes. — 
The  straight  lines  which  are  employed  in  the  fifth  book  of  Euclid 
to  represent  magnitudes  in  general,  differ  from  the  algebraical  ex- 
pressions of  these  magnitudes,  in  the  same  respects  which  picture- 
writing  differs  from  arbitrary  characters. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  155 

terms,  it  always  has  a  tendency,  more  or  lefs,  to 
miflead  us  from  the  truth.  As  the  decifion  of  a  judge 
muft  neceffarily  be  impartial,  when  he  is  only  ac- 
quainted with  the  relations  in  which  the  parties  (land 
to  each  other,  and  when  their  names  are  fupplied  by 
letters  of  the  alphabet,  or  by  the  fiditious  names  of 
Titius,  Caius,  and  Sempronius  ;  fo,  in  every  procefs 
of  reafoning,  the  concluiion  we  form  is  moft  likely 
to  be  logically  juft,  when  the  attention  is  confined 
folely  to  figns  ;  and  when  the  imagination  does  not 
prefent  to  it  thofe  individual  objeds  which  may  warp 
the  judgment  by  cafual  affociations. 

To  thefe  remarks,  it  may  not  be  improper  to  add, 
that  although  in  our  fpeculations  concerning  indi- 
viduals, it  is  pollible  to  carry  on  procelTes  of  reafon- 
ing, by  fixing  our  attention  on  the  objeds  themfelves, 
without  the  ufe  of  language  ;  yet  it  is  alfo  in  our 
power  to  accomplifli  the  fame  end,  by  fubilituting 
for  thefe  objects,  words,  or  other  arbitrary  figns. 
The  difference  between  the  employments  of  language 
in  fuch  cafes,  and  in  our  fpeculations  concerning 
claffes  or  genera,  is  ;  that  in  the  former  cafe  the  ufe 
of  words  is,  in  a  great  meafure,  optional ;  whereas, 
in  the  latter,  it  is  eflentially  neceffary.  This  obfer- 
vation  deferves  our  attention  the  more,  that,  if  I  am 
not  miftaken,  it  has  contributed  to  miflciid  fome  of 
the  Realifts  ;  by  giving  rife  to  an  idea,  that  the  ufe 
of  language,  in  thinking  about  univerfals,  however 
convenient,  is  not  more  neceffary  than  in  thinking 
about  individuals. 

According  to  this  view  of  the  procefs  of  the  mind, 
in  carrying  on  general  fpeculations,  that  idea  which 
the  antient  philofophers  confidered  as  the  ciTence  of 
an  individual,  is  nothing  more  than  the  particular 
quality  or  qualities  in  which  it  refembles  other  indi- 
viduals of  the  fame  clafs  ;  and  in  confequence  of 
which,  a  generic  name  is  applied  to  it.  It  is  the  pof- 
feflion  of  this  quality,  that  entitles  the  individual  to 


156  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

the  generic  appellation  ;  and  which,  therefore,  may 
be  faid  to  be  eflential  to  its  claffification  vvirh  that 
particular  genus  ;  but  as  all  clarifications  are  to  a 
certain  degree  arbitrary,  it  does  not  neceffaniy  tol- 
low,  that  it  is  more  effentiai  to  its  exiflence  as  an  in- 
dividual, than  various  other  qualities  which  we  are 
accuftomed  to  regard  as  accidental.  In  other  words, 
(if  I  may  borrow  the  language  of  modern  philolo- 
phy,)  this  quality  forms  its  nominal,  but  not  its  real 
elTence. 

Thefe  obfervations  will,  I  flatter  myfelf,  be  fuffi- 
cient  for  the  latisfaclion  of  fuch  of  my  readers  as  are 
at  all  converfant  with  philofophical  inquiries.  Fur 
the  fake  of  others,  to  whom  this  dilquifition  may 
be  new,  I  have  added  the  following  illullrations. 

J  fhall  have  occafion  to  examine,  in  another  part 
of  my  work,  how  far  it  is  true,  (as  is  commonly  be- 
lieved,) that  every  procefs  of  reafoning  may  be  re- 
folved  into  a  feries  of  fyilogifms  ;  and  to  point  out 
fome  limitations,  with  which,  1  apprehend,  it  is  ne- 
cefTary  that  this  opinion  fliould  be  received.  As  it 
would  lead  me,  however,  too  far  from  n':y  preient 
fubjed,  to  anticipate  any  part  of  the  doctrine  which 
I  am  then  to  propof  ,  I  fhall,  in  the  following  re- 
marks, proceed  on  the  fuppofition,  that  the  fyllogiftic 
theory  is  well-founded  ;  a  fuppofition  which,  altho' 
not  fi:ri(5lly  agreeable  to  truth,  is  yet  fufhciently  ac- 
curate for  the  ufe  which  I  am  now  to  make  of  it. 
Take,  then,  any  flep  of  one  of  Euclid's  demonflra- 
tions  ;  for  example,  the  firil  flep  of  his  firft  propofi- 
tion,  and  flate  it  in  the  form  of  a  fyllogifm. — "  All 
*'  flrait  lines,  drawn  from  the  centre  of  a  circle  to  the 
*^  circumference,  are  equal  to  one  another."  "  But  A 
*'  B, and  C  D,  are  flraight  lines, drawn  from  the  centre 
''  of  a  circle  to  the  circumference.  Therefore,  A  B 
"  is  equal  to  C  D." — It  is  perfe<5l:iy  manifeff ,  that,  in 
order  to  feel  the  force  of  this  conclufion,  it  is  by  no 
means  neceffary,  that  I  fliould  annex  any  particular 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  157 

notions  to  the  letters  AB  or  CD,  or  that  I  fhould 
comprehend  what  is  meant  by  equality^  or  by  a  circle^ 
its  centre^  and  its  circumference.  Every  perfon  muft 
be  latisfied,  that  the  truth  of  the  conclulion  is  ne- 
celTarily  implied  in  that  of  the  two  preniites  ;  w  hat- 
ever  the  particular  things  may  be  to  which  thefe 
premifes  may  relate.  In  the  following  fyllnglfm, 
too  : — *'  All  men  mull  die  ; — Peter  is  a  man  ; — there- 
*'  fore  Peter  muft  die  ;" — the  evidence  of  the  conclu- 
fion  does  not  in  the  ieaft  depend  on  the  particular 
notions  1  annex  to  the  words  man^  and  Peter  ;  but 
would  be  equally  complete,  if  we  were  to  fubltitute 
inftead  oF  them,  two  letters  of  the  alphabet,  or  any 
other  iniignificant  characters. — "  All  X's  muft  die  ; 
*' — Z  is  an  X  ; — therefore  Z  muft  die  ;" — is  a  lyllo- 
gifm  which  forces  the  affent  nolefs  than  the  former. 
It  is  farther  obvious,  that  this  fyllogifm  would  be 
equally  conclufive,  if,  inftead  of  the  word  die^  I  were 
to  fubftitute  any  other  verb  that  the  language  con- 
tains ;  and  that,  in  order  to  perceive  the  juftneis  of 
the  inference,  it  is  not  even  neceffary  that  I  fhouid 
underftand  its  meaning. 

In  general,  it  might  be  eafily  fhewn,  that  all  the 
rules  of  logic,  with  refpecl  to  lyllogifms,  might  be 
demonftrated,  without  having  recourfe  to  any  thing 
but  letters  of  the  alphabet ;  in  the  fame  manner, 
(and  I  may  add,  on  the  very  fame  principles,)  on 
which  the  algebraift  demonftrates,  by  means  of  thefe 
letters,  the  various  rules  for  tranfpofing  the  terms  of 
an  equation- 

From  what  has  been  faid,  it  follows,  that  the  af- 
fent we  give  to  the  conciufion  of  a  fyllogifm  does 
not  refult  from  any  examination  of  the  notions  ex-" 
preiled  by  the  different  propositions  of  which  it  is 
composed,  but  is  an  immediate  confequence  of  the 
relations  in  which  the  words  ftand  to  each  other. 
The  truth  is,  that,  in  every  fyllogism,  the  inference 
is  only  a  particular  inftance  of  the  general   axiom. 


158  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

that  whatever  is  true  universally  of  any  fign,  muft 
also  be  true  of  every  individual  which  that  fign  can 
be  euipioyed  to  exprefs.  Adiritting,  therefore, 
that  every  procels  ot  reasoning  may  be  refolved  in- 
to a  ieries  of  fyllogiims,  it  follows,  that  this  opera- 
tion of  the  mind  furnifhes  no  proof  of  the  exiftence 
of  any  thing  correfponding  to  general  terms,  dis- 
tind  from  the  individuals  to  which  thefe  terms  are 
applicable. 

rhese  remarks,  I  am  very  fenfible,  do,  by  no 
means,  exhaufl  the  fubjed  ;  for  there  are  various 
nujJes  of  reaioning,  to  which  the  fylogiftic  theory 
does  not  apply.  13ut,in  ail  of  them,  without  excep- 
tion, it  will  be  found,  on  examination,  that  the  evi- 
dence of  our  -^oncfulions  appears  imn  ediately  from 
the  confideration  of  the  words  in  which  the  premif- 
es  are  exprefl'ed  ;  without  any  reference  to  the 
things  which  they  denote.  Ihe  imperfect  account 
which  is  given  of  dedudive  evidence,  in  the  recei- 
ved fyftems  of  logic,  makes  it  iti.pofTible  for  me,  in 
this  place,  to  profecute  the  fubjed  ar.y  farther. 

After  all  that  I  have  faid  on  the  ule  of  laiiguage 
as  an  inftrument  of  reafoning,  I  can  ealily  foreiee  a 
variety  of  objedions,  which  may  occur  to  the  di»d- 
rine  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  eftablifh.  But 
without  entering  into  a  particular  examination  of 
thefe  ohjedions,  I  believe  1  may  venture  to  afjirm, 
that  moii:,  if  not  all,  of  them  take  their  rife  from 
confounding  reafoning,  or  dedudion.  properly  so 
called,  with  certain  other  intelledual  procefies, 
which  ir  la  nectfiary  for  us  to  employ  in  the  invefti- 
gation  of  truth.  That  it  is  frequently  of  effential 
importance  to  us,  in  our  fpeculations,  to  withdraw 
our  attention  from  w^ords,  and  to  dired  it  to  the 
things  they  denote,  I  am  very  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge. All  that  I  afTert  is,  that,  in  so  far  as  our 
fpeculations  con  (id  of  that  procefs  of  the  mind  which 
is  properly  called  reafoning,  they  may  be  carried  on 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  159 

by  words  alone  ;  or,  which  comes  to  the  fame  thing, 
that  every  procefs  of  reafoning  is  perfectly  analo- 
gous to  an  algebraical  operation.  What  1  mean  by 
"  the  other  intelle<5lual  procefTes  diftin<51:  from  rea- 
*'  foning,  which  it  is  neceflary  for  us  fometimes  to 
"  employ  in  the  inveftigation  of  truth,"  will,  I  hope, 
appear  clearly  from  the  following  remarks. 

In  algebraical  inveftigations,  it  is  well  known, 
that  the  practical  application  of  a  general  expreffion, 
is  frequently  limited  by  the  conditions  which  the 
hypothefis  involves  ;  and  that,  in  confequence  of  a 
want  of  attention  to  this  circumftance,  fome  math- 
ematicians of  the  firft  eminence  have  been  led  to  a- 
dopt  the  moft  paradoxical  and  abfurd  conclufions> 
Without  this  cautious  exercise  of  the  judgment,  in 
the  interpretation  of  the  algebraical  language,  no 
dexteritv  in  the  use  of  the  calculus  will  be  fufficient 

4 

to  preferve  us  from  error.  Even  in  algebra,  there- 
fore, there  is  an  application  of  the  intellectual  pow- 
ers perfedily  diftindt  from  any  procefs  of  reafoning ; 
and  which  is  abfolutely  neceflary  for  conducting  us 
to  the  truth. 

In  geometry,  we  are  not  liable  to  adopt  the  fame 
paradoxical  conclufions,  as  in  algebra  ;  becaufe  the 
diagrams  to  which  our  attention  is  directed,  ferve 
as  a  continual  check  on  our  reafoning  powers. 
Thefe  diagrams  exhibit  to  our  very  fenfes,  a  variety 
of  relations  among  the  quantities  under  confidera- 
tion,  which  the  language  of  algebra  is  too  general 
to  exprefs  ;  in  confequence  of  which,  we  are  not 
confcious  of  any  effort  of  the  judgment  diftinct  from 
a  procefs  of  reafoning.  As  every  geometrical  in- 
veftigation, however,  may  be  exprefled  algebraxally, 
it  is  manifeft,  that,  in  geometry,  as  well  as  in  alge- 
bra, there  is  an  exercife  of  the  intellectual  powers, 
diftinct  from  the  logical  procefs  ;  although,  in  the 
former  fcience,  it  is  rendered  iiy  eafy,  by  the  ufe  of 
diagrams,  as  to  efcape  our  attention. 


160  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

The  fame  fource  of  error  and  of  abfurdity,  which 
exiils  in  algebra,  is  to  be  found,  in  a  much  greater 
degree,  in  the  other  branches  of  knowledge.  Ah- 
ftracting  entirely  from  the  ambiguity  of  laniruage  ; 
and  fuppofing  alfo  our  reafonings  to  be  logically  ac- 
curate, it  would  ftill  be  neceffary  for  us,  from  time  to 
time,  in  all  our  fpeculations,  tp  lay  alide  the  ufe  of 
words,  and  to  have  recourfe  to  particular  examples, 
or  illuftrations,  in  order  to  correct  and  to  limit  our 
general  concluiions. — To  a  want  of  attention  to  this 
circumftance,  a  number  of  the  fpeculative  abfurdi- 
ties  which  are  current  in  the  world,  might,  I  am 
perfuaded,  be  eafily  traced. 

Belides,  however,  this  fource  of  error,  which  is  in 
fome  degree  common  to  all  the  fciences,  there  is  a 
great  variety  of  others,  from  which  mathematics 
are  entirely  exempted :  and  which  perpetually  tend 
to  lead  us  aftray  in  our  philofophical  inquiries.  Of 
thefe,  the  moft  important  is,  that  ambiguity  in  the 
fignification  of  words,  which  renders  it  fo  difficult 
to  avoid  employing  the  fame  expreflions  in  different 
fenfes,  in  the  courfe  of  the  fame  procefs  of  reafon- 
ing.  This  fource  of  miftake,  indeed,  is  apt,  in  a 
much  greater  degree,  to  affect  our  conclufions  in 
metaphyfics,  morals,  and  politics,  than  in  the  differ- 
ent branches  of  natural  philofophy  ;  but,  if  we  ex- 
cept mathematics,  there  is  no  fcience  whatever,  in 
which  it  has  not  a  very  fenfible  influence.  In  alge- 
bra, we  may  proceed  with  perfect  fafety  through 
the  longed:  inveftigations,  without  carrying  our  at- 
tention beyond  the  ligns,  till  we  arrive  at  the  laft  re- 
fult.  But  in  the  other  fciences,  excepting  in  thol 
cafes  in  which  we  have  fixed  the  meaning  of  all  oui 
terms  by  accurate  definitions,  and  have  rendered  th< 
ufe  of  thefe  terms  perfectly  familiar  to  us  by  ver] 
long  habit,  it  is  but  feldom  that  we  can  proceed  ii 
this  manner  without  danger  of  error.  In  many  ci 
fes,  it  is  neceffary  for  us  to  keep  up,  during   th^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  161; 

whole  of  our  inveftigations,  a  fcrupulous  and  con- 
ftant  attention  to  the  (ignification  of  our  exprefiions  ; 
and,  in  mofl  cafes,  this  caution  in  the  ufe  of  words, 
is  a  much  more  difficult  effort  of  the  mind,  than  the 
logical  procefs.  But  iliil  this  furniflies  no  excep- 
tion to  the  general  do6lrine  already  delivered  j  for 
the  attention  we  find  it  neceifary  to  give  to  the  im- 
port of  our  words,  arifes  only  from  the  accidental 
circHmftance  of  their  ambiguity,  and  has  no  effen- 
tial  cbnne(flion  with  that  procefs  of  the  mind,  which 
is  properly  called  reafoning  ;  and  which  confills  in 
the  inference  of  a  conclufion  from  premifes.  In  all 
the  fciences,  this  procefs  of  the  mind  is  perfedlly  a- 
nalogous  to  an  algebraical  operation  ;  or,  in  other 
words,  (when  the  meaning  of  our  expreffions  is  once 
fixed  by  definitions,)  it  may  be  carried  on  intirely 
by  the  ufe  of  figns,  without  attending,  during  the 
time  of  the  procefs,  to  the  things  fignified. 

The  conclufion  to  which  the  foregoing  obferva- 
tions  lead,  appears  to  me  to  be  decifive  of  the  queC- 
tion,  with  refped  to  the  objects  of  our  thoughts 
when  we  employ  general  terms ;  for  if  it  be  grant- 
ed, that  words,  even  when  employed  without  any 
reference  to  their  particular  fignification,  form  an 
inftrument  of  thought  fufficient  for  all  the  purpofes 
of  reafoning;  the  only  fliadow  of  an  argument  in 
proof  of  the  common  do<5i:rine  on  the  iuhjecl,  (I 
mean  that  which  is  founded  on  the  impoffibility  of 
explaining  this  procefs  of  the  mind  on  any  other  hy- 
pothefis,)  falls  to  the  ground.  Nothing  lefs,  furely, 
than  a  convi<5lion  of  this  impoffihiiity,  could  have  fo 
long  reconciled  philoibphers  to  an  hypothefis  unfup- 
ported  bv  any  diredl  evidence  ;  and  acknowledged 
even  by  its  warmeft  defenders,  to  involve  muchdif* 
ficulty  and  myfi:ery. 

It  does  not  fall  within  my  plan,  to  enter,  in  this 
part  of  my  work,  into  a  particular  confideration  of 
the  practical  confecjueates  which  loiiow  from  tUe 


162  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHV 

foregoing  doi^rine.  I  cannot,  however,  help  re- 
marking the  innpartance  of  cultivating,  on  the  one 
hand,  a  talent  for  ready  and  various  iiluftration  ; 
and,  on  the  other,  a  habit  of  reafoning  by  means  of 
general  terms.  The  former  talent  is  neceflary,  not 
only  for  corred:ing  and  limiting  our  general  conclu- 
fions,  but  for  enabling  us  to  apply  our  knowledge, 
when  occalion  requires,  to  its  real  practical  ufc.  The 
latter  ferves  the  double  purpofe,  of  preventing  our 
attention  from  being  diftracted  during  the  courfe  of 
our  reafonings,  by  ideas  which  are  foreign  to  the 
point  in  queilion  ;  and  of  diverting  the  attention 
from  thofe  conceptions  of  particular  objedtsand  par- 
ticular events  which  might  diflurb  the  judgment, 
by  the  ideas  and  feelings,  which  are  apt  to  be  affo- 
ciated  with  them,  in  confequence  of  our  own  cafual 
experience. 

This  laft  obfervation  points  out  to  us,  alfo,  one 
principal  foundation  of  the  art  of  the  orator.  As 
his  obje6l  is  not  fo  much  to  inform  and  to  fatisfy  the 
underflandings  of  his  hearers,  as  to  force  their  im- 
mediate affent ;  it  is  frequently  of  ufe  to  him  to 
clothe  his  reafonings  in  that  fpecific  and  figurative 
language,  which  may  either  awaken  in  their  minds 
aflbciations  favorable  to  his  purpofe,  or  may  divert 
their  attention  from  a  logical  examination  of  his  ar- 
gument. A  procefs  of  reafoning  fo  expreffed,  af 
fords  at  once  an  exercife  to  the  judgment,  lo  the  imi 
agination,  and  to  the  paflions  ;  and  is  apt,  evei 
when  loofe  and  inconiequential,  to  impofe  on  tlu 
bell  underftandings. 

It  appears  farther,  from  the  remarks  which  hav< 
been  made,  that  the  perfedion  of  philofophical  Ian;i 
guage,  confidered  either  as  an  infirurricnt  of  thought; 
or  as  a  medium  of  communication  with  others^  con- 
fifts  in  the  ufe  of  expreflions,  which  from  their  gen- 
erality, have  no  tendency  to  awaken  the  powers  o£  ^ 
conception  and  imagination  ^  or,  in  other  words,  it       j 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  163 

confifts  in  its  approaching,  as  nearly  as  pofTible,  in 
its  nature,  to  the  language  of  algebra.  And  hence 
the  effects  which  long  habits  of  philofophical  fpecu- 
lation  have,  in  weakening,  by  difufe,  thofe  faculties 
of  the  mind,  which  are  neceffary  for  the  exertions 
of  the  poet  and  the  orator  ;  and  of  gradually  form- 
ing a  ftyle  of  compofition,  which  they  who  read 
merely  for  amufement,  are  apt  to  cenfure  for  a  want 
of  vivacity  and  of  ornament. 


SECTION  III. 

Remarks  on  the  Opinions  of  fome  modern  Fhilofophers  on 
the  Subjed  of  the  foregoing  SeStion, 

AFTER  the  death  of  Abelard,  through  whofe  a* 
bilities  and  eloquence  the  fed  of  Nominalifts  had 
enjoyed,  for  a  few  years,  a  very  fplendid  triumph, 
the  fyftem  of  the  Realifts  began  to  revive  ;  and  it 
was  foon  fo  completely  re-eftablifhed  in  the  fchools, 
as  to  prevail,  with  little  or  no  oppofition,  till  the 
fourteenth  century.  What  the  circumlhnces  were, 
which  led  philofophers  to  abandon  a  do<5lrine,  which 
feems  fo  ftrongly  to  recommend  itfelf  by  its  fimpli- 
city,  it  is  not  very  eafy  to  conceive.  Probably  the 
heretical  opinions,  which  had  fubjed:ed  both  Abe- 
lard and  Rofcelinus  to  the  cenfure  of  the  church, 
might  create  a  prejudice  alfo  againft  their  philofoph- 
ical principles ;  and  probably  too,  the  manner  in 
which  thefe  principles  were  ftated  and  defended, 
was  not  the  cleared,  nor  the  moft  fatisfaclory.*  The 
principal  caufe,  however,  I  am  difpofed  to  think,  of 
the  decline  of  the  fedl  of  Nominalills,  was  their  want 

♦  The  great  argument  which  the  Nominalists  employed  against 
the  existence  of  universals  was :   "  Entia  non  sunt  multiplicanda 

'■'  prajter  nsc.-^Siitateno." 


164  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

of  fome  palpable  example,  by  means  of  which  they 
might  illuftrate  their  doci:rine.  It  is  by  the  ufe 
which  algebraifts  make  of  the  letters  of  the  alphabet 
in  carrying  on  their  operations,  that  Leibnitz  and 
Berkeley  have  been  moil  fucceisful  in  explaining  the 
ufe  of  language  as  an  inllrument  of  thought;  and,as  in 
the  Xllth  century,  the  algebraical  art  was  entirely  un^ 
known,RofceUnus  and  Abelard  muft  have  been  redu- 
ced  to  the  neceffity  ot  conveying  their  leading  idea 
by  general  circumlocutions  ;  and  muft  have  found 
conliderable  difficulty  in  ftating  it  in  a  manner  fatis- 
fadory  to  themfelves :  a  confideration,  by  the  way, 
•which,  if  it  accounts  for  the  flow  progrefs  which 
this  dodlrine  made  in  the  world,  places  in  the  more 
ftr iking  light,  the  genius  of  thofe  men  whole  fagacity 
led  them,  under  fo  great  difadvantages,  to  approach 
fc  a  conc'ufion  fo  juft  and  pliilofophic  il  in  itfelf,  and 
fo  oppofite  to  the  prevailing  opinions  of  their  age. 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  this  fe<^feems  to  have 
been  almoft  completely  extindl ;  their  doctrine  being 
equally  reprobated  by  the  two  great  parties  which 
then  divided  the  fchools,  the  followers  of  Duns  Sco- 
tus  and  of  Thomas  Aquinas.  Thefe,  although  they 
differed  in  their  manner  of  explaining  the  nature  of 
\uuverfals,  and  oppofed  each  other's  opinions  wiih 
much  afperity,  yet  united  in  reje^ling  the  dodrine 
of  the  Nominalifts,  not  only  as  abfurd,  but  as  lead- 
ing to  the  moft  dangerous  confequences.  At  laft, 
William  Occam,  a  native  of  England,  and  a  fchilar 
of  Duns  Scotus,  revived  the  ancient  controverfy  : 
and  with  equal  ability  and  fuccefs  vindicated  the 
long-abandoned  philofophy  of  Rofcelinus.  From 
this  time  the  difpute  was  carried  on  with  great 
warmth,  in  the  univerfities  of  France,  of  Germany, 
and  of  England  ;  more  particularly  in  the  two  for- 
mer countries,  where  the  fovereigns  were  led,  by 
fom.e  political  views,  to  intereft  themfelves  deeply 
in  the  conteft  j  and  even  to  employ  the  civil  power 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINB.  J  65 

in  fupporting  their  favorite  opinions.  The  emperor 
Lewis  of  Bavarii,  in  return  for  the  afliriance  which, 
in  his  difputes  with  the  Pope,*  Occam  had  given  to 
him  by  his  writings,  fided  with  the  Nominalifts. 
Lewis  the  Eleventh  of  France,  on  the  other  hand,  at- 
tached himfelf  to  the  Realifts,  and  made  their  an- 
tagonifh  the  objects  of  a  cruel  pcrfecution.f 

The  proteftant  reformation,  at  length  involved 
xnen  of  learning  in  difcuflions  of  a  more  interefting 
nature  ;  but  even  the  zeal  of  theological  controver- 
fy  could  hardly  exceed  that  with  which  the  N omin- 
alifts  and  Realifts  had  for  fometime  before  maintain- 
ed their  reipe£tive  doctrines.  "  Clamores  primuru 
"  ad  ravim,"  cfays  an  author  who  had  himfelf  been 
an  eye-witnefs  of  thefe  Uterary  difputes)  "  hinc  im- 
"  probitas,  faunae,  minae,  convitia,  dum  luclantur,  et 
"  uterque  alterum  tentat  profternere  :  confumtis 
*'  verbis  venitur  ad  pugnos,  ad  veram  lu6tam  ex  fi(5i:a 
"  et  fimulata.  Quia  etiam,  qua2  contingunt  in  palae- 
"  ftra,  illic  non  defunt,  colaphi,  alapae,  confputio,  cal- 
"  ces,  morfus,  etiam  quae  jam  fupra  leges  palaeftrae, 
"  fufles,  ferrum,  faucii  multi,  nonnunquam  occi(i.**+ 
That  this  account  is  not  exaggerated,  we  have  the 
teftimony  of  no  lefs  an  author  than  Erafmus,  who 
mentions  it  as  a  common  occurrence  :  "  Eos  ufque 
*'  ad  pallorem,  ufque  ad  convitia,  ufque  ad  fputa, 
*'  nonnunquam  et  ufque  ad  pugnos  invicem  digladi- 
*'  ari,  alios  ut  Nominales,  alios  ut  Reales,  loqui,"§ 

*  Occam,  we  are  told,  was  accustomed  to  say  to  the  Emperor  : 
"  Tu  me  defendas  gladio,  et  ego  te  defeadam  calaino.'*  Brucker, 
vol.  iii.  p.  848. 

t  Mostieim's  Ecclesiastical  History. 

t  LUDOVICUS  ViVES. 

§  The  Nominalists  procured  the  death  of  John  Haes,  who  was 
a  "Realist ;  and  in  their  letter  to  Lewis  King  of  France,  do  not  pre- 
tend to  deny  that  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  resentment  of  their  gect. 
The  Realists,  on  the  other  hand,  obtained,  in  the  year  1479,  the 
condemnation  of  John  de  Wesalia,  who  was  attached  to  the  party 


166  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

The  difpute  to  which  the  foregoing  obfervations 
relate,  although  for  fome  time  after  the  Reformation, 
interrupted  by  theological  difquifitions,  has  been 
fince  occafionally  revived  by  difff^rent  writers ;  and, 
fingular  as  it  may  appear,  it  has  not  yet  been  brought 
to  a  concluiion  in  which  all  parties  are  agreed.  1  he 
names,  indeed,  of  Nominalifts  and  Realitls  ex^ft  no 
longer  ;  but  the  point  in  difpute  between  thefe  two 
celebrated  ieds,  coincides  precifely  wirh  a  queftion 
which  has  been  agitated  in  our  own  times,  ano  which 
lias  led  to  one  of  the  moli  beautiful  fpeculations  of 
modern  philofcphy. 

Of  the  advocates  who  have  appeared  for  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Nviminalifts,  (ince  the  revival  of  letters, 
the  moft  diilinguifhed  are,  Hobbes,  Berkeley,  and 
Hume.  The  firft  has,  in  various  parts  of  his  works, 
reprobated  the  hypotheiis  of  the  Realiils  ;  and  has 
ftated  the  opinions  of  their  antagonifts  with  that 
acutenefs,  fimplicity,  and  precifion,  which  diftinguifh 
all  his  writings.*     The  fecond,  coniidering  (and  in 

of  the  Nominalists.  These  eontfending  sects  carried  their  fury  so 
far  as  to  charge  each  other  with  **  the  sin  against  tiie  Hoi/ 
Ghost." 

Mosheim's  Ecclesiastical  History. 

*  *'  The  nniversaiity  of  one  name  to  many  things,  hath  been  the 
"  cause  that  men  think  the  thing.-'  themselves  are  universal  ;-.and 
"  so  seriously  contend,  that  besides  Peter  and  John,  and  all  the  rest 
"  of  the  men  that  are,  have  been,  or  shall  be,  in  the  world  there  is 
*'  yet  somethifig  else,  that  we  call  Man,  viz.  Man  in  g:eneraj ;  de- 
*'  ceiving  themselves,  by  taking  tlie  universal,  or  general  appella- 
*'  tion.  for  the  thing  it  slgnifielh  :  For  if  one  bhould  desire  the 
**  painter  to  make  liim  the  picture  of  a  man,  which  is  as  much  as 
"  to  say,  of  a  man  in  general  ;  he  ;nea;uth  no  more,  but  that  the 
*'  painter  should  chuse  what  man  he  plea?erh  to  draw,  which  must 
"  needs  be  some  of  tliem  that  are,  or  have  been,  or  may  be  ;  none 
"  of  which  are  univer^al.  But  when  he  would  have  him  to  draw 
"  the  picture  of  the  king,  or  any  particular  person,  he  limiteth  the 
*•  painter  to  that  one  person  he  chuseth.  It  is  plain,  therefore, 
*•  that  there  is  nothing  universal  btit  names  ;  which  are  therefore 
'^  called  indefinite,  because  we  limit  them  not  ourselves,  but  lc«u'& 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND*  167 

my  opinion,  juftly)  the  docElrines  of  the  antients  con- 
cerning univerfals,  in  fupport  of  which  fo  much  in- 
genuity had  been  employed  by  the  Realifts,  as  the 
great  fource  of  my-ftery  and  error  in  the  abftradt 
faiences,  was  at  pains  to  overthrow  it  completely,  by 
fome  very  ingenious  and  original  fpeculations  of  his 
own.  Mr.  Hume's*  view  of  the  fubje<fV,  as  he  him- 
felf  acknowledges,  does  not  differ  materially  from 
that  o^  Berkeley  ;  whom,  by  the  way,  he  feems  to 
have  regarded  as  the  author  of  an  opinion,  of  which 
he  was  only  an  expoiitor  and  defender ;  and  which, 
fince  the  days  of  Rofcelinus  and  Abelard,  has  been 
familiarly  known  in  all  the  univerfities  of  Europe.f 

«  them  to  be  applied  by  the  hearer :  whereas  a  singular  name  is 
«  limited  and  restrained  to  one  of  the  many  things  it  signifieth ;  as 
«  when  we  say,  this  man,  pointing  to  him,  or  giving  him  his  pro- 
*'  per  name,  or  by  some  such  other  way." 

HoBBES's  Tripos,  chap.  v.  §  6. 

*  "  A  very  material  question  has  been  started  concerning  ab- 
"  stract  or  general  ideas  :  Whether  they  be  general  or  particular 
"  in  the  mind's  conception  of  them  ?  A  great  philosopher  has  dis- 
<'  puted  the  received  opinion  in  this  particular  ;  and  has  asserted;, 
"  that  all  general  ideas  are  nothing  but  particular  ones  annexed  to 
**  a  certain  term,  which  gives  them  a  more  extensive  signification, 
"  and  makes  them  recal,  upon  occasion,  other  individuals,  which 
*<  are  similar  to  them.  As  I  look  upon  this  to  be  one  of  the 
"  greatest  and  most  valuable  discoveries  that  have  been  made  of 
"  late  years  in  the  republic  of  letters,  I  shall  here  endeavor  to  con- 
**  firm  it  by  some  arguments,  which,  I  hope,  will  put  it  beyond  alJ 
*'  doubt  and  controversy.*' 

Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  bock  i.  part  i.  §  7. 

t  Leibnitz,  too,  has  declared  himself  a  partisan  of  this  sect,  in  a. 
dissertation  "  De  Stilo  Philosophico  Marii  Nizolii."  Thi;-  Nizo- 
lius  published  a  book  at  Parma,  in  the  year  1553,  entitled,  •'  De 
«*  Veris  principiis  et  vera  hatione  Philosophandi ;"  in  which  he 
opposed  several  of  the  doctrines  of  Aristotle,  particularly  his  opin- 
ion concerning  universuls.  An  edition  of  this  work,  with  a  Pre- 
face and  Notes,  was  published  by  Leibnitz  at  Fraiickfort,  in  the 
year  1670.  The  Preface  and  Notes  are  to  be  found  in  the  fourth 
volume  ol  his  vvorkb,  by  Dutens.  (^Geneva,  17G8.)  1  have  inser- 
ted a  short  extract  from  the  former,  in  Note  (I)  at  the  end  of  the 
volume. 


168  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHV 

Notwithftanding,  however,  the  great  merit  of  thefe 
writers,  in  defending  and  illuftrating  the  fyftem  of 
the  Nominalifts,  none  of  them  feem  to  me  to  have 
been  fully  aware  oi  the  important  confequences  to 
which  it  leads-  "l  he  Abbe  de  Gondillac  was,  I  be- 
lieve, the  firft  (if  we  except,  perhaps,  Leibnitz)  who 
perceived  that,  if  this  fyftem  be  true,  a  talent  for 
reaioning  muft  confift,  in  a  great  meafure,  in  a  fkil- 
ful  ufe  of  language  as  an  inftrument  of  thought. 
The  moft  valuable  of  his  remarks  on  this  fubjecl  are 
contained  in  a  treatife  De  i*  Art  de  Fevfer^  which 
forms  the  fourth  volume  of  his  "  Cours  d'Etude." 

Dr.  Campbell,  too.  in  his Philofophy  of  Rhetoric, 
has  founded,  on  the  principles  of  Berkeley  and  Hume, 
a  very  curious  and  interefting  fpeculation,  of  which 
I  fhall  have  occafion  afterwards  to  take  notice. 

The  explanation  which  the  do&ines  of  thefe  wri- 
ters afford,  of  the  procefs  of  the  mind  in  general  rea- 
foning,  is  fo  fimple,  and  at  the  fame  time,  in  n.y  ap- 
preheniion,  fo  fatisfadory,  that,  I  own,  it  is  with 
fome  degree  of  iurprife  I  have  read  the  atten:pts 
which  have  lately  been  made  to  revive  the  fyftem  of 
the  Realifts.  One  of  the  ableft  of  thefe  attempts  is 
by  Dr.  Price  ;  who  in  his  very  valuable  Treatile  on 
Morals,  has  not  only  employed  his  ingenuity  in  fup- 
port  of  fome  of  the  old  tenets  of  the  Platonic  fchool, 
but  has  even  gone  fo  far  as  to  follow  Plato's  example, 
in  coniiecling  this  fpeculation  abcmt  univerfals,  with 
the  fublinie  queftions  of  natural  theology.  The  ob- 
fervations  which  he  has  offered  in  lupport  of  thefe 
opinions,  I  have  repeatedly  perufed  with  all  the  at- 
tention in  my  power  ;  but  without  being  able  to  en- 
ter into  his  views,  or  even  to  con  prehend  fully  his 
n^.eajiing.  Indeed,  I  muft  acknowledge,  that  it  ap- 
pears to  me  to  afford  no  flight  prefun  ption  againft; 
the  prii.c'ipies  on  which  he  proceeds,  when  I  obferve, 
that  an  author,  remarkable,  on  moft  occafions,  for 
preciiion  of  ideas,  and  for  perfpicuity  of  ftyle,  never 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  169 

fails  to  lofe  himfelf  in  obfcurity  and  myftery,  when 
he  enters  on  thefe  difquilitions. 

Dr.  Price's  reafonings  in  proof  of  the  exiftence  of 
univerfals,  are  the  more  curious,  as  he  acquiefces  in 
fome  of  Dr.  Reid's  conclufions  with  refpedt  to  the 
ideal  theory  of  perception.  That  there  are  in  the 
mind,  images  or  refemblances  of  things  external,  he 
grants  to  be  impoflible ;  but  ftiil  he  feems  to  luppofe, 
that,  in  every  exertion  of  thought,  there  isfomething 
immediately  prefent  to  the  mind,  which  is  the  ob- 
jetl  of  its  attention.  "  When  abftracl  truth  is  con- 
"  templated,  is  not"  (fays  he)  '*■  the  very  objecl  itfelf 
"  prefent  to  the  mind  ?  When  millions  of  intellects 
*'  contemplate  the  equality  of  every  angle  of  a  femi- 
"  circle  to  a  right  angle,  have  they  not  all  the  fame 
"  objed  in  view  ?  Is  this  objed  nothing  ?  Or  is  it 
"  only  an  image,  or  kind  of  (hadow  ?  Thefe  inqui- 
"  ries,"  he  adds, "  carry  our  thoughts  high."* 

The  difEculty  which  has  appeared  fo  puzzling  to 
this  ingenious  writer,  is,  in  truth,  more  apparent 
than  real.     In  the  cafe  of  Perception,  Imagination, 

*  The  whole  passage  is  as  follows :  "  The  word  idea  is  some- 
"  times  used  to  signify  the  immediate  object  of  the  mind  in  think- 
"  ing,  considered  as  something  in  the  mind,  which  represents  the 
*'  real  object,  but  is  different  from  it.  This  sense  of  an  idea  is  de- 
"  rived  from  the  notion,  that  when  we  think  of  any  external  exist- 
"  ence,  there  is  something  immediately  present  to  the  mind,  which 
'*  it  contemplates  distinct  from  the  object  itself,  that  being  at  a 
"  distance.  But  what  is  this  ?  It  is  bad  language  to  call  it  an  ira- 
"  age  in  the  mind  of  the  object.  Shall  we  gay  then,  that  there  is 
"  indeed  no  such  thing  ?  But  would  not  this  be  the  same  as  to  say 
"  that,  when  the  mind  is  employed  in  viewing  and  examining  any 
*«  object,  which  is  either  not  present  to  it,  or  does  not  exist,  it  is 
**  employed  in  viewing  and  examining  nothing,  and  therefore  does 
**  not  then  think  at  all  ? — When  abstract  truth  is  contemplated,  is 
**  not  the  very  object  itself  present  to  the  mind  ?  When  millions  of 
*♦  intellects  contemplate  the  equality  of  every  angle  in  a  semicircle 
"  to  a  right  angle,  have  they  not  all  the  same  object  in  view  ?  Is 
**  this  object  nothing  ?  Or  is  it  only  an  image  or  kind  of  shadow  ? 
^<— These  inquiries  carrv  our  thoughts  high." 

X       ' 


17Q  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

and  Memory,  it  has  been  already  fully  fhewn,  lllaf 
we  have  no  reafon  to  believe  the  exiftence  of  any 
thing  in  the  mind  diftini^  from  the  mind  itfelf ; 
and  that,  even  upon  the  fuppofition  that  the  fac^ 
were  other  wife,  our  intellectual  operations  would  be 
juft  as  inexplicable  as  they  are  at  prefent.  Why  then 
fliould  we  fuppofe,  that,,  in  our  general  fpeculations, 
there  muft  exiil:  in  the  mind  fome  objed:  of  its 
thoughts,  when  it  appears  that  there  is  no  evidence 
of  the  exiftence  of  any  fuch  object,  even  when  the 
mind  is  employed  about  individuals  ? 

Still,  however,  it  may  be  urged,,  that,  although,  in 
fuch  cafes,  there  fhould  be  no  objed  of  thought  in 
the  mind,  there  muft  exift  fomething  or  other  to 
which  its  attention  is  direded.  To  this  difficulty  I 
have  no  anfwer  to  make,  but  by  repeating  the  fa6l 
which  I  have  already  endeavored  to  eftablifh  ;  that 
there  are  only  two  ways  in  which  we  can  poffibly 
fpeculate  about  claffes  of  objects  ;  the  one,  by  means 
of  a  word  or  generic  term  ;  the  other,  by  means  of 
one  particular  individual  of  the  clafs  which  we  con- 
lider  as  the  reprefentative  of  the  reft ;  and  that  thefe 
two  methods  of  carrying  on  our  general  fpecula- 
tions, are  at  bottom  fo  much  the  fame,  as  to  author- 
ife  us  to  lay  down  as  a  principle,  that,  without  the 
ufe  of  figns,  all  our  thoughts  muft  have  related  to 
individuals.  When  we  reafon  therefore,  concerning 
claffes  or  genera,  the  objects  of  our  attention  are  mere- 
ly iigns  ;  or  if,  in  any  inftance,the  generic  word  fhould 
recal  fome  individual,  this  circumftance  is  to  be  re- 
garded only  as  the  confequence  of  an  accidental  af- 
fociation,  which  has  rather  a  tezadency  to  difturb, 
than  to  affift  us  in  our  reafoning. 

Whether  it  might  not  have  been  pofiible  for  the 
Deity  tO'  have  fo  formed  us,  that  we  might  have  Jbeen 
capable  of  reafoning  concerning  claffes  of  objects, 
without  the  ufe  of  figns,  I  ftiall  not  take  upon  me  to 
determine.     But  this  we  may  venture  to  affirm  with 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  '  171 

confidence,  that  man  is  not  fuch  a  being.  And  in. 
deed,  even  if  he  were,  it  would  not  therefore  necef- 
farily  follow,  that  there  exifts  any  thing  in  a  genus, 
diftincl  from  the  individuals  of  which  it  is  compofed ; 
for  we  know  that  the  power  which  we  have  of 
thinking  of  particular  objects  without  the  medium 
pf  figns,  does  not  in  the  leaft  depend  on  their  exift- 
ence  or  non-exiftence,  at  the  moment  we  think  of 
them. 

It  would  be  vaii^,  however,  for  us,  in  inquiries  of 
this  nature,  to  indulge  ourfelves  in  fpeculating  about 
poflibilities.  It  is  of  more  confequence  to  remark 
the  advantages  which  we  derive  from  our  actual  con- 
ftitution  ;  and  which,  in  the  prefent  inftance,  appear 
to  me  to  be  important  and  admirable  :  inafmuch  as 
it  fits  mankind  for  an  eafy  interchange  of  their  in- 
telledlual  acquifitions  ;  by  impofing  on  them  the  ne* 
ceffity  of  employing,  in  their  folitary  fpeculations, 
the  fame  inftrument  of  thought,  which  forms  the 
eftablifhed  medium  of  their  communieatioriS  with 
each  other. 

In  the  very  flight  fl^etch  which  I  have  given  of  the 
controverfy  between  the  Nominalifts  and  the  Real- 
ifts  about  the  exiftence  of  univerfals,  I  have  taken  no 
notice  of  an  intermediate  feci  called  Conceptualifts ; 
whofe  diftinguifliing  tenet  is  faid  to  have  been,  that 
the  mind  has  a  power  of  forming  general  concep- 
tions.*    From  the  indiftindnefs  and  inaccuracy  of 

*  '*  Nominales,  deserta  paulo  Abelardi  hypothesi,  universalia  in 
*«  notionibas  atque  eonceptibus  mentis  ex  rebus  singiilaribus  ab- 
*'  stractione  formatis  consistere  statuebant,  unde  conceptuales  dicti 
»'  sunt." — — Brucker,  vol.  iii.  p.  908.  (Lips.  1706.) 

**  Nominalium  tres  erant  familiae.  Aliqui  ut  Rocelinus,  univcr- 
"  salia  meras  esse  voces  docuerunt.  A.iii  iterum  in  solo  intellectu 
"  possuerunt,  atque  nieros  animi  conceptus  esse  autumarunt,  quos 
^*  conceptuales  aliqui  vocant,  et  a  nominalibus  distinguunt,  qt»an- 
''  quaoi  alii  etiam  confundant.  Alii  fuerunt,  qui  universalia  qu«- 
*'  iiverunt,  non  tarn  in  vocibus,  quam  in  sermonibus  integris,  quod 


172  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

their  language  on  the  fubjecl,  it  is  not  a  very  eafy 
matter  to  afcertain  precileiy  what  was  their  opinion 
on  the  point  in  queflion  ;  but,  on  the  whole,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  that  it  amounted  to  the  two  fol- 
lowing propolitions  :  firft,  that  we  have  no  reafon  to 
believe  the  exiftence  of  any  eflences,  or  univerfal 
ideas,  correfponding  to  general  terms  ;  and  fecondly, 
that  the  mind  has  the  power  of  reafoning  concerning 
genera^  or  dalles  of  individuals,  without  the  mediation 
of  language.  Indeed  1  cannot  think  of  any  other  hy- 
potheiis  which  it  is  poflible  to  form  on  the  fubjecl, 
diftincl  from  thofe  of  the  two  celebrated  feels  already 
mentioned.  In  denying  the  exiftence  of  univerfals, 
we  know  that  the  Conceptualifts  agreed  with  the 
Nominalifts.  In  what,  then,  can  we  fuppofe  that 
they  differed  from  them,  but  about  the  necellity  of 
language  as  an  inftrument  of  thought,  in  carrying 
on  our  general  fpeculations  ? 

With  this  fed  of  Conceptualifts,  Dr.  Reid  is  dif- 
pofed  to  rank  Mr.  Locke  ;  and  I  agree  with  him  fo 
far  as  to  think,  that,  if  Locke  had  any  decided  opin- 
ion on  the  point  in  difpute,  it  did  not  differ  materi- 
ally from  what  I  have  endeavored  to  exprefs  in  the 
two  general  proportions  which  I  have  juft  now  fta- 
ted.  The  apparent  inconfiftencies  which  occur  in 
that  part  of  his  Eflay  in  which  the  queftion  is  difcuf- 
fed,  have  led  fubfequent  authors  to  reprefent  his  fen- 
timents  in  different  lights  ;  but  as  thefe  inconffften- 
cies  plainly  fliew,  that  he  was  neither  fatisfied  with 
the  fyftem  of  the  Realifts  nor  with  that  of  the  Nom- 
inalists ;  they  appear  to  me  to  demonftrate  that  he 
leaned  to  the  intermediate  hypothefis  already  men- 

**  Joh.  Sarisberiens's  adscribit  Pet.  Abelardo  ;   quo  quid  intelligat 

**  ille,  mihi  non  satis  liquet." Morhof.  Polyhistor.  Tom.  Sec, 

lib.  i.  cap.  xiii.  §  2. 

I  have  taken  no  notice  of  the  last  class  of  Nominalists  here 
mentioned  i  as  I  find  myself  unable  to  comprehend  their  doc- 
trine. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  173 

tioned,  notwithftanding  the  inaccurate  and  paradox, 
ical  manner  in  which  he  has  expreffed  it.* 

May  1  take  the  liberty  of  adding,  that  Dr.  Reid*s 
own  opinion  feems  to  me  alfo  to  coincide  nearly  with 
that  of  the  Conceptualifts  ;  or,  at  leatt,  to  coincide 
with  the  two  propoiitions  which  I  have  already  fup. 
pofed  to  contain  a  fummary  of  their  dodrine  ?  The 
abfurdity  of  the  ancient  opinion  concerning  univer- 
fals,  as  maintained  both  by  Plato  and  Arillotle,  he 
has  expofed  by  the  cleareft  and  moft  deciilve  argu- 
ments ;  not  to  mention,  that  by  his  own  very  ori- 
ginal  and  important  fpeculati^nsxoncerning  the  ide- 
al theory,  he  has  completely  deftroyed  that  natural 
prejudice  from  which  the  whole  fyftem  of  univerfal 
ideas  gradually  took  rife.  If,  even  in  the  cafe  of  in- 
dividuals, we  have  no  reafon  to  believe  the  exillence 
of  any  object  of  thought  in  the  mind,  diftind  from 
the  mind  itfelf,  we  are  at  once  relieved  from  all  the 
diiEculties  in  which  philofophers  have  involved 
themfelves,  by  attempting  to  explain,  in  confiftency 
with  that  ancient  hypothelis,  the  procefs  of  the  mind 
in  its  general  fpeculations. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  no  lefs  clear,  from  Dr. 
Reid's  criticifms  on  Berkeley  and  Hume,  that  his 
opinion  does  not  coincide  with  that  ot  rht  Nomin- 
alifts  ;  and  that  the  power  which  the  mind  .poflefTes 
of  reafoning  concerning  clafles  of  objects,  appears  to 
him  to  imply  fome  faculty,  of  which  no  notice  is  ta- 
ken in  the  fyftems  of  thefe  philofophers. 

The  long  experience  1  have  had  of  the  candor  of 
this  excellent  author,  encourages  me  to  add,  that,  in 
Itating  his  opinion  of  the  fubje6t  of  univerfals,  he 
has  not  expreffed  himfelf  in  a  manner  fo  completely 
fatisfactory  to  my  mind,  as  on  moft  other  occafions. 
That  language  is  not  an  effential  inftrument  of 
thought  i..  our  general  reafonings,  he  has  no  where 
pofitively  afferted.  At  the  fame  time,  as  he  has  not 
*  See  Note  [K.] 


%74f  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

affirmed  the  contrary,  and  as  he  has  declared  him- 
felt  diflktisfied  with  the  doctrines  of  Berkeley  and 
Hume,  his  readers  are  naturally  led  to  conclude, 
that  this  is  his  real  opinion  on  the  lubjed.  His  fi- 
ience  on  this  point  is  the  more  to  be  regretted,  as  it 
is  the  only  point  about  which  there  can  be  any  reafon- 
able  controverfy  among  thole  who  allow  his  refuta- 
tion of  the  ideal  hppothefis  to  be  fatisfadory.  In 
confequence  of  that  refutation,  the  whole  difpute 
between  the  Realifts  and  the  Conceptualifls  falls  at 
once  to  the  ground ;  but  the  difpute  between  the 
Conceptuallfts  and  the  Nominalifts  (which  involves 
the  great  queftion  concerning  the  ufe  of  figns  in  gen- 
eral fpeculation)  remains  on  the  fa-me  footing  as  be- 
fore. 

In  order  to  juftify  his  own  expreflions  concerning 
univerfals ;  and  in  oppofition  to  the  language  of 
Berkeley  and  Hume,  Dr.  Reid  is  at  pains  to  illuf- 
tratea  diftinc^ion  between  conception  and  imagina- 
tion, which  he  thinks,  has  not  been  fufficiently  atten- 
ded to  by  philofophers.  "  An  univerfal,"  fays  he, 
*•  is  not  an  object  of  any  external  fenfe,  and  there- 
"  fore  cannot  be  imagined  *,  but  it  may  be  diftinclly 
"  conceived.  When  Mr.  Pope  fays,  "  The  proper 
"  ftudy  of  mankind  is  man  ;"  I  conceive  his  mean- 
'-^  ing  diftinclly  ;  although  I  neither  imagine  a  black 
"  or  a  white,  a  crooked  or  a  ftraight  man.  I  can  con- 
•"^  ceive  a  thing  thatis  impoffible ;  but  I  cannot  diftin<^- 
"  ly  imagine  a  thing  that  is  impoffible.  I  can  con- 
"  ceive  a  propofition  or  a  demonftration,  but  I  can- 
"  not  imagine  either.  I  can  conceive  underftand- 
"  ing  and  will,  virtue  and  vice,  and  other  attributes 
"  of  the  miiid  ;  but  I  cannot  imagine  them.  In 
"  like  manner,  I  can  diftindlly  conceive  univerfals  j 
"  but  I  cannot  imagine  them."* 

It  appears  from  this  paffage,  that,  by  conceiving 
univerfals,  Dr.  Reid  means  nothing  more,  than  un^ 
*  P.  482. 


OF  THE  HtTMAN  MIND.  17^ 

derftanding  the  meaning  of  propofitions  involving 
general  terms.  But  the  obfervations  he  has  made 
(admitting  them  in  their  full  extent)  do  not  in  the 
leaft  afFect  the  queftion  about  the  neceflity  of  iigns, 
to  enable  us  to  fpeculate  about  fuch  propofitions. 
The  vague  ufe  which  metaphyfical  writers  have  made 
of  the  word  conception^  {pi  which  I  had  occafion  to 
take  notice  in  a  former  chapter,)  has  contributed  m 
part  to  embarrafs  this  fubjed:.  That  we  cannot  con- 
ceive univerfals  in  a  way  at  all  analogous  to  that  in 
which  we  conceive  an  abfent  obje<5l  of  fenfe,  is  grant- 
ed on  both  fides.  Why  then  fhould  we  employ 
the  fame  word  conception^  to  exprefs  two  operations 
of  the  mind  which  are  effentially  different  ?  When 
we  fpeak  of  conceiving  or  underflanding  a  general 
propofition,  we  mean  nothing  more  than  that  we 
have  a  conviction,(founded  on  our  previous  ufe  of  the 
words  in  which  it  is  expreffed,)  that  we  have  it  in 
our  power,  at  pleafure,  to  fubflitute,  inflead  of  the 
general  terms,  fome  one  of  the  individuals  compre- 
hended under  them.  When  we  hear  a  propofition 
announced,  of  which  the  terms  are  not  familiar  to 
us  ;  we  naturally  defire  to  have  it  exemplified,  or 
illuflrated,  by  means  of  fome  particular  inflance  ; 
and  when  we  are  once  fatisfied  by  fuch  an  applica- 
tion,  that  we  have  the  interpretation  of  the  propo- 
fition at  all  times  in  our  power,  we  make  no  fcruple 
to  fay,  that  we  conceive  or  underfland  its  meaning ; 
although  we  fhould  not  extend  our  views  beyond 
the  words  in  which  it  is  announced,  or  even  although 
no  particular  exemplification  of  it  fhould  occur  to 
us  at  the  moment.  It  is  in  this  fenfe  only,  that  the 
terms  of  any  general  propofition  can  poflibly  be  un- 
derflood :  and  therefore  Dr.  Reid's  argument  does 
not,  in  the  leaft,  invalidate  the  dodlrine  of  the  Nom- 
inal! fls,  that,  without  the  ufe  of  language,  (under 
which  term  I  comprehend  every  fpecies  of  figns,)  we 
flioukl  never  have  been  able  to  extend  our  fpecula- 
tions  beyond  individuals. 


j  76  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

That,  in  many  cafes,  we  may  fafely  employ  in  our 
reafonings,  general  terms,  the  meaning  of  which  we 
are  not  even  able  to  interpret  in  this  way,  and  con- 
fequently,  which  are  to  us  wholly  infignificant,  I  had 
occafion  already  to  demonftrate,  in  a  former  part  of 
this  feclion. 


SECTION  IV. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  SubjeB.-^Inferences  with  refpeEl 
to  the  life  of  Language  as  an  Injirument  of  Thought^ 
and  the  Errors  in  Reafonmg  to  which  it  occafionally 
gives  rife* 

IN  the  laft  Section,  I  mentioned  Dr.  Campbell,  as 
an  ingenious  defender  of  the  fyftem  of  the  Nomin- 
alifts  ;  and  I  alluded  to  a  particular  application  which 
he  has  made  of  their  doctrine.  The  reafonings  which 
I  had  tlien  in  view,  are  to  be  found  in  the  feventh 
chapter  of  the  fecond  book  of  Km  Philofophy  of 
Rhetoric  ;  in  which  chapter  he  propofes  to  explain 
how  it  happens,  "  that  nonlenfe  lb  often  efcapes  be- 
"  ing  deteded,  both  by  the  WTiter  and  the  reader." 
The  title  is  fomewhat  ludicrous  in  a  grave  philofoph- 
ical  work  ;  but  the  difquifition  to  which  it  is  pre- 
fixed, contains  many  acute  and  profound  remarks 
on  the  nature  and  power  of  figns,  both  as  a  medi- 
um of  communication,  and  as  an  inilrument  of 
thought. 

Dr.  Campbell's  fpeculations  with  refpecl  to  lan- 
guage as  an  inftrument  of  thought,  feem  to  have 
been  fuggefted  by  the  following  paflage  in  Mr. 
Hume's  Treatile  of  Human  Nature.  "  I  believe,  ev- 
"  ery  one  who  examines  the  fituation  of  his  mind 
"  in  reafoning,  will  agree  with  me,  that  we  do  not 
"  annex  diftind  and  complete  ideas  to  every 
"  term  we  make  ule  of ;  and  that  in  talking  of  Gov- 


OF  trtE  HUMAN  MIND*  177 

'^^  eminent.  Church,  Negociation,  Conqueft,  we  fel- 
'^'  dom  fpread  out  in  our  minds  all  the  finriple  ideas 
"  of  which  thefe  complex  ones  are  compofed.  It  is, 
"  however,  obfervable,  that,  notwithftanding  this 
"  imperfe6lion,  we  may  avoid  talking  nonfenfe  on 
"  thefe  fubje^ls  ;  and  may  perceive  any  repug- 
"  nance  among  the  ideas,  as  well  as  if  we  had  a  full 
"  comprehenlion  of  them.  Thus  if,  inftead  of  fay- 
"  ing,  that,  in  war,  the  trt^isker  have  always  re- 
'^^  courfe  to  negociation,  we  fhould  fay,  that  they 
"  have  always  recourfe  to  conqueft  ;  the  cuftonj 
*'  which  we  have  acquired,  of  attributing  certain 
**  relations  to  ideas,  ftill  follows  the  words,  and 
*'  makes  us  immediately  perceive  the  abfurdity  o£ 
*^  that  propofition." 

In  the  remarks  which  Dr.  Campbell  has  made  on 
this  palTage,  he  has  endeavored  to  explain  in  what 
inanner  our  habits  of  thinking  and  fpeaking,  grad- 
ually eftablifh  in  the  mind,  fuch  relations  among  the 
words  we  employ,  as  enable  us  to  carry  on  proceffes 
of  reafoning  by  means  of  them,  without  attending 
in  every  inflance  to  their  particular  fignification. 
"With  moft  of  his  remarks  on  this  fubjecl  I  perfectly 
agree  ;  but  the  illuftrations  he  gives  of  them,  are  of 
too  great  extent  to  be  introduced  here  ;  and  I  would 
not  wdfh  to  run  the  risk  of  impairing  their  perfpicu- 
ity,  by  attempting  to  abridge  them.  I  muft  there- 
fore refer  fuch  of  my  readers  as  wifh  to  profecute 
the  fpeculation,  to  his  very  ingenious  and  philofoph- 
ical  treatife. 

"  In  confequence  of  thefe  circumftances,"  (fays 
Dr.  Campbell,)  "  It  happens  that,  in  matters  which 
*'  are  perfectly  familiar  to  us,  we  are  able  to  reafon 
'*  by  means  of  v/ords,  without  examining,  in  every 
"  inflance,  their  fir^nification.  Almoft  all  the  polTi- 
"  ble  applications  of  the  terms  (in  other  words,  all 
"  the  acquired  relations  of  the  iigns)  have  become 
"  cuftomarv  to  us.  The  confequence  is,  that  an  un- 
'  Y 


178  '  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  ufual  application  of  any  term  is  inftantly  detected  ; 
"  this  detection  breeds  doubt,  and  this  doubt  occa- 
*'  lions  an  immediate  recourfe  to  ideas.  The  re- 
*'  courfe  of  the  mind,  when  in  any  degree  puzzled 
"  with  the  Cgns,  to  the  knowledge  it  has  of  the 
"  things  fignified,  is  natural,  and  on  fuch  fubjecls 
"  perfectly  eafy.  And  of  this  recourfe  the  difcove- 
''  ry  of  the  meaning,  or  of  the  unmeaningnefs  of 
*'  what  is  faid,  is  the  immediate  efFed.  But  in  mat- 
*'  ters  that  are  by  no  means  familiar,  or  are  treated 
*^'  in  an  uncommon  manner,  and  in  fuch  as  are  of  an 
*'  abftruse  and  intricate  nature,  the  cafe  is  widely 
"  different."  The  inftances  in  which  we  are  chief- 
ly liable  to  be  impofed  on  by  words  without  mean- 
ing are,  (according  to  Dr.  Campbell,)  the  three  fol- 
lowing : 

Firft,  Where  there  is  an  exuberance  of  metaphor. 

Secondly,  "When  the  terms  moft  frequently  occur- 
ring, denote  things  which  are  of  a  complicated  na- 
ture, and  to  which  the  mind  is  not  fufficiently  fa- 
miliarifed.  Such  are  the  words,  Government, 
Church,  State,  Conftitution,  Polity,  Power,  Com- 
merce, Legiflature,  Jurifdidion,  Proportion,  Syme- 
try.  Elegance. 

Thirdly,  When  the  terms  employed  are  very  ab- 
ftrad:,  and  confequently  of  very  exteniive  fignifica- 
tion.*     For  an  illuflration  of  thefe  remarks,  I  muft 

*  ^  The  more  general  any  word  is  in  its  signification,  it  is  the 
"  more  liable  to  be  abused  by  an  improper  or  unmeaning  applica- 
"  lion.  A  very  general  term  is  applicable  alike  to  a  multitude  of 
"  different  individuals,  a  particular  term  is  applicable  but  to  a  few. 
**  When  the  rightful  applications  of  a  word  are  extremely  nume- 
"  rous,  they  cannot  all  be  so  strongly  fixed  by  habit,  but  that,  for 
"  greater  security,  v/e  must  perpetually  recur  in  our  minds  from 
**  the  sign  to  the  notion  we  have  of  the  tiling  signified  ;  and  for 
**  the  reason  aforementioned,  it  is  in  such  instances  difficult  precise- 
"  ly  to  ascertain  this  notion.  Thus  the  latitude  of  a  word,  though 
*'  different  from  its  ambiguity,  hath  often  a  similar  effect." — Phi- 
losophy of  Khetorac,  vol.  ii.  p.  122. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  179 

refer  the  reader  to  the  ingenious  work  which  I  juft 
now  quoted. 

To  the  obvervations  of  thefe  eminent  writers,  I 
fliall  take  the  liberty  of  adding,  that  we  are  doubly  li- 
able to  the  miftakes  they  mention,  when  ^^e  make 
ufe  of  a  language  which  is  not  perfectly  familiar  to 
us.  Nothing,  indeed,  I  apprehend,  can  fhew  more 
dearly  the  ufe  we  make  of  words  in  reafoning  than 
this,  that  an  obfervation  which,  when  expreffed  in 
our  own  language,  feems  trite  or  frivolous,  often  ac- 
quires the  appearance  of  depth  and  Originality,  by 
being  tranflated  into  another.  For  my  own  part,  at 
leaft,  I  am  confcious  of  having  been  frequently  led, 
in  this  way,  to  form  an  exaggerated  idea  of  the 
merits  of  ancient  and  df  foreign  authors  ;  and  it  has 
happened  to  me  more  than  once,  that  a  fentence, 
which  feemed  at  firft  to  contain  fomething  highly 
ingenious,and  profound,  when  tranflated  into  words 
familiar  to  me,  appeared  obvioufly  to  be  a  trite  or  a 
nugatory  propofition. 

The  effecfl  produced  by  an  artificial  and  inverted 
flyle  in  our  own  language,  is  fimilar  to  what  we  ex- 
perience when  we  read  a  compofition  in  a  foreign 
one.  The  eye  is  too  much  dazzled  to  fee  diftincliy. 
"  Aliud  ftyli  genus,"  (fays  Bacon,)  "  totum  in  eo  eil, 
*'  ut  verba  fnit  aculeata,  fententiae  concifce,  oratio 
"  denique  potius  verfa  quam  liila,  quo  fit,  ut  omnia, 
"  per  hujufmodi  artificium,  magis  ingeniofa  vide- 
"  antur  quam  re  vera  fmt.  Tale  invenitur  in  Sene- 
"  ca  effufius,  in  Tacito  et  Piinio  fecundo  moderati, 
"  us." 

The  deranged  collocation  of  the  \^ords  in  I.atin 
compofition,  aids  powerfully  the  inipolition  we  have 
now  been  confidering,  and  renders  that  language  an 
inconvenient  medium  of  philofophi^al  communica- 
tion ;  as  well  as  an  inconvenient  inilrument  of  accu- 
rate thought.  Indeed,  in  all  languages  in  which  this 
latitude  in  the  arrangement  of  the  words  is  admit- 


180  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ted,  the  affociations  among  words  muft  be  loofer, 
than  where  one  invariable  order  is  followed  ;  and 
of  confequence,  on  the  principles  of  Hume  and 
Campbell,  the  miftakes  which  are  committed  in  rea- 
fonings  expreffed  in  fuch  languages,  will  not  be  fo 
readily  detedled. 

The  errors  in  reafoning,  to  which  we  are  expofed 
in  confequence  of  the  ufe  of  words  as  an  inftrument 
of  thought,  will  appear  the  lefs  furprifing,  when  we 
conlider  that  all  the  languages  which  have  hitherto 
exitled  in  the  world,  have  derived  their  origin  from 
popular  ufe  ;  and  that  their  application  to  philofophr 
ical  purpofes,  was  altogether  out  of  the  view  of  thofe 
men  who  firft  employed  them.     Whether  it  might 
not  be  pofiible  to  invent  a  language,  which  would 
at  once  facilitate  philofophical  communication,  and 
form  a  more  convenient  inftrument  of  reafoning  and 
of  invention,  than  thofe  we  poffefs  at  prefent,  is  a 
que  lion  of  very  difficult  difcuffion  ;  and  upon  which 
I  fhall  not  prefume  to  offer  an    opinion.     The  fail- 
lire  of  Wilkin's  very  ingenious  attempt  towards  a  re- 
al charader,  and  a  philofophical  language,  is  not  per- 
haps deciiive  againft  fuch  a  projecl ;  for,  not  to  men- 
tion fome  radical  defers  in   his  plan,  the  views  of 
that  very  enunent  philofopher  do  not  feem  to  have 
extended  much  farther  than  to  promote  and  extend 
the   literary   intercourfe   among   different   nations. 
Leibnitz,  fo  far  as  I  know,  is  the  only  author  who 
has  hitherto  conceived  the  pofTibility  of  aiding  the 
powers  of  invention  and  of  reafoning,  by  the  ufe  of 
a  more  convenient  inflrument  of  thought  ;  but  he 
has  no  where  explained  his  ideas  on  this  very  inter 
efting  fubjed.     It  is  only  from  a  converfation  of 
his  with  Mr.  Boyle  and  Mr.  Oldenburgh,  when  he 
was  in  England  in  167S,  and  from  fome  imperfecl 
hints  in  different  parts  of  his  works,*  that  we  find 

>SeeNote[L.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  181 

it  had  engaged  his  attention.  In  the  courfe  of  this 
converfation  he  obferved,  that  Wilkins  had  mifta- 
ken  the  true  end  of  a  real  charader  which  was  not 
merely  to  enable  different  nations  to  correfpond  ea- 
fily  together,  but  to  ajffift  the  reafon,  the  invention, 
and  the  memory.  In  his  writings,  too,  he  fome- 
where  fpeaks  of  an  alphabet  of  human  thoughts, 
which  he  had  been  employed  in  forming,  and  which, 
probably,  (as  Fontenelle  has  remarked)  had  fome  re- 
lation to  his  univerfal  language.* 

The  new  nomenclature  which  has  been  introduced 
into  chymiftry,  feems  to  me  to  furnifh  a  ftriking  il- 
luftration  of  the  effecl  of  appropriated  and  well-de- 
fined expreilions,  in  aiding  the  intellectual  powers ; 
and  the  period  is  probably  not  far  diftant,  when  iim« 
ilar  innovations  will  be  attempted  in  fome  of  the  oth- 
er fciences. 

*  "  M.  Leibnitz  avoit  conga  le  pfojet  d'une  langue  philo- 
**  sophique  et  universelle.  Wilkins  Eveque  de  Chester,  et 
'*  Dalgarnoy  avoient  travaille  ;  mais  des  le  tems  qu'il  etoit 
"  en  Angleterre,  il  avoit  dit  a  Messieurs  Boyle  et  d*  Old- 
"  enboiirg  qa'il  ne  croj'oit  pas  que  ces  grands  honnnies 
*'  eussent  encore  frappe  au  bur.  lis  pouvoient  bien  faire 
"  que  des  nations  qui  na  s'enlendoient  pas  eussent  aisement 
**  commerce,  maia  ils  n 'avoient  pas  attrappe  les  veri tables 
"  caracteres  reels,  qui  eloient  Tinstrament  le  plus  fin  dont 
**  Pesprit  bumain  se  put  servir,  et  qui  devoient  extremc- 
"  ment  faciliter  et  le  raisonnement,  et  la  memoire,  et  l*in- 
"  veniion  des  chose?.  Ils  devoient  ressembler,  autant  qu'il 
**  etoit  possible,  aux  caracteres  d'algebre,  qui  en  effct  sont 
*'  tres  simples,  et  ties  expressifs,  qui  n'ont  jamais  ni  super- 
"  fluite  ni  equivoque,  et  dont  toutes  les  varietes  sont  rai- 
''  sonnees.  II  a  parle  en  quelque  endroit,  d'un  alpliabet 
'^^  des  pensees  humaines,  qu'il  meditnit.  Selon  toutes  les 
•  appareDces,cet  alphabet  avoit  rapport  a  ss  langue  univer- 
n-'lle."     Ehge  de  jM.  Lei hsnz,  par  M.  de  Fontekelle. 


182  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 


SECTION  V. 

Of  the  Purpofes  to  which  the  Powers  of  AhflraBion  and 
Generaufatwi  are  fuhfervitnt, 

IT  has  been  already  ftiewn,  that,  without  the  ufe 
of  figns,  all  our  knowledge  muft  neceflkrily  have  been 
limited  to  individuals,  and  that  we  {ht)uld  have  been 
perteclly  incapable  both  of  claffification  and  general 
reafoning.  Some  authors  have  maintained,  that 
without  the  power  of  generalifation,  (which  I  have 
endeavored  to  fhow,  means  nothing  more  than  the 
capacity  of  employing  general  terms,)  it  would  have 
been  impoflible  for  us  to  have  carried  on  any  fpecies 
of  reafoning  whatever.  But  1  cannot  help  thinking 
that  this  opinion  is  erroneous  ;  or,  at  leaft,  that  it  is 
very  imperfeclly  Hated,  The  truth  is,  it  appears  to 
me  to  be  juft  in  one  fenfe  of  the  word  reafoning^  but 
falfe  in  another  ;  and  I  even  fufped  it  is  falle  in  that 
fenfe  of  the  word  in  which  it  is  moft  commonly  em- 
ployed. Before,  therefore,  it  is  laid  down  as  a  gen- 
eral propofition,  the  meaning  we  are  to  annex  to 
this  very  vague  and  ambiguous  term,  fliould  be 
afcertained  with  precilion. 

It  has  been  remarked  by  feveral  writers  that 
the  cxpeclition  which  we  feel  of  the  continuance 
of  the  laws  of  nature,  is  not  founded  upon  rea- 
foning ;  and  different  theories  have  of  late  beei 
propofed  to  account  for  its  origin.  Mr.  Hum< 
refblves  it  into  the  affociation  of  ideas.  Dr.  Reid^ 
on  the  other  hand,  maintains,  that  it  is  an  origi 
principle  of  our  conftitution,  which  does  not  admit 
of  any  explanation  ;  and  which,  therefore,  is  to  b< 
ranked  among  thofe  general  and  ultimate  fadls,  be^ 
yond  which,  philofophy  is  unable  to  proceed.*  With- 

*  In  inqnirjes  of  this  nature,  so  far  removed  from   the 
common   courte  of  literary  pursuits,  it  always  gives  me 


OP  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  183 

out  this  principle  of  expeftation,  it  would  be  impof- 
fiblc  for  us  to  accommodate  our  conduct  to  the  ef- 
tablifhed  courfe  of  nature ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find 
that  it  is  a  principle  coeval  with  our  very  exiftence ; 
and,  in  fome  meafure,  common  to  man  with  the 
lower  animals. 

It  is  an  obvious  confequence  of  this  doftrine,  that, 
although  philofophers  be  accuftomed  to  ftate  what 
are  commonly  called  the  laws  of  nature,  in  the  form 
of  general  propofitions,  it  is  by  no  means  neceffary 
for  the  pradical  purpofes  of  life,  that  we  fhould  ex- 
prefs  them  in  this  manner ;  or  even  that  we  Ihould 
exprefs  them  in  words  at  all.     The  philofopher,  for 

pleasure  to  remark  a  coincidence  of  opinion  among  different 
philosophers  ;  particularly  among  men  of  original  genius, 
and  who  have  been  educated  in  different  philosophical  sys- 
tems. The  following  passage,  in  which  M.  de  Condorcet 
gives  an  account  of  some  ot  the  metaphysical  opinions  of 
the  late  Mr.  Turgot,  approaches  very  nearly  to  Dr.  Reid's 
doctrines. 

**  La  memoire  de  nos  sensations,  et  la  faculte  que  nous 
•'  avons  de  reflechir  sur  ces  sensations  passees  et  de  les 
*'  combiner,  sont  le  seul  principe  de  nos  ccnnoissances.  La 
"  supposition  qu'il  existe  des  loix  constantcs  auxquelles 
"  tons  ies  phenomenes  observes  sont  assujettis  de  maniere 
"  a  reparoitre  dans  tous  les  temps,  dans  toutes  les  circon- 
'•  stances,  lels  qu'ils  sent  determines  par  ces  loix,  est  le 
*'  seul  fondement  de  la  certitude  de  ces  connoissances. 

"  Nous  avons  la  conscience  d'avoir  observe  cette  con- 
**  stance,  et  un  sentiment  involontaire  nous  force  de  croire 
'*  qu'elle  continue  a  de  subsister.  La  probabilite  qui  en 
"  resulte,  quelque  grande  qu'elle  soit,  n'est  pas  une  certi- 
"  tude.  Aucune  relation  necessaire  ne  lie  pour  nous  le 
"  passe  a  Tavenir,  ni  la  Constance  de  ce  que  j'ai  vu  a  celle 
'*  de  ce  que  j'aurois  continue  d'observer  si  j'etoisresie  dans 
"  des  circonstances  semblables  ;  mais  I'imfTession  qui  me 
**  porte  a  regarder  comme  existant,  comme  red  ce  qui  m'a 
*'  presenie  ce  caractere  de  Constance  est  irresistible." — Fif 
de  Turcot,  partie  ii.  p.  56. 

"  Quand  un  Francois  et  un  Anglois  present  de  meme, 
**  (says  Voltairc,j  il  faut  bien  qu'iis  aient  raison." 


184  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPiriT 

example,  may  ftate  it  as  a  law  of  nature,  that  "  fir^ 
fcorches ;"  or  that "  heavy  bodies,  when  unlupport* 
ed,  fall  downwards  :"  but,  long  before  the  ufe  of 
artificial  figns,  and  even  before  the  dawn  of  reafon^ 
a  child  learns  to  ad:  upon  both  of  thefe  fuppolitions. 
In  doing  fo,  it  is  influenced  merely  by  the  inftinctive 
principle  which  has  now  been  mentioned,  directed 
in  its  operation  (as  is  the  cafe  with  many  other  in- 
ftinds)  by  the  experience  of  the  individual.  If  man, 
therefore,  had  been  deilined  for  no  other  purpofes, 
than  to  acquire  fuch  an  acquaintance  with  the  courfe 
of  nature,  as  is  necellary  for  the  prefervation  of  his 
animal  exiflence  ;  he  might  have  fulfilled  all  the 
ends  of  his  being  without  the  ufe  of  language. 

As  we  are  enabled,  by  our  inftinclive  anticipation 
of  phyfical  events,  to  accommodate  our  conduct  to 
what  we  forefee  is  to  happen,  fo  we  are  enabled,  in 
many  cafes,  to  increafe  our  power,  by  employing 
phyfical  caufes  as  inftruments  for  the  accomplilliment 
of  our  purpofes ;  nay,  we  can  employ  a  feries  of  fuch 
caufes,  lo  as  to  accomplifh  very  remote  effects.  We 
can  employ  the  agency  of  air,  to  increafe  the  heat  of 
a  furnace  ;  the  furnace,  to  render  iron  malleable  ; 
and  the  iron  to  all  the  various  purpofes  of  the  me- 
chanical arts.  Now,  it  appears  to  me,  that  all  ':his 
may  be  conceived  and  done  without  the  aid  of  ian* 
guage  :  and  yet,  afl'urediy,  to  difcover  a  ferit:^.  of 
means  fubfervient  to  a  panicular  end ;  or,  in  other 
words,  an  effort  of  m-echanicai  invention  ;  implies, 
according  to  the  common  doctrines  of  philofophers, 
the  excrcife  of  our  reafoning  powers.  In  this  fenfe, 
therefore,  of  the  word  realoning,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  that  it  is  not  effentially  connected  with  the 
faculty  of  generalifation,  or  with  the  ufe  of  figns. 

It  is  fome  confiruiation  of  this  conciufion,  that 
favages,  whofe  mjnds  are  almoft  wholly  occupied 
\vith  particulars,  and  who  have  neither  inclination 
nor  capacity  fcr  general  fpcculations,  are  yet  occa- 


OP  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  18,^ 

iionally  obferved  to  employ  a  long  train  of  means  for 
accomplifliing  a  particular  purpofe.  Even  fomething 
of  this  kind,  but  in  a  very  inferior  degree,  may,  I 
think,  be  remarked  in  the  other  animalb  ;  and  that 
they  do  not  carry  it  farther,  is  probably  not  the  ef- 
fedb  of  their  want  of  generalifation,  but  of  the  imper- 
fection of  fome  of  thofe  faculties  which  are  common 
to  them  with  our  fpecies  ;  particul  irly  of  their  pow- 
ers of  attention  and  recollection.  I  he  inftances  which 
are  commonly  produced,  to  prove  that  they  are  not 
deftitute  of  the  power  of  reafoning,  are  all  examples 
of  that  fpecies  of  contrivance  which  has  been  men- 
tioned ;  and  are  perfectly  diftind  from  thofe  intel- 
lectual proceffes  to  which  the  ufe  of  iigns  is  effential- 
ly  fubfervient.* 

*One  of  the  best  attested  instances  which  I  have  met 
with,  of  sagacity  in  the  lower  aninaals,  is  iricrntioned  b^'  M, 
Bailly,  in  his  Lettre  sur  les  Animaux^  addressed  to  M.  Le 
Roy. 

*'  Un  dc  mes  amis,  homme  d'espritet  digne  deconfiance, 
*'  m'a  raconie  deux  faits  dont  il  a  ee  temoin.  II  a*  oil  ua 
**  singe  tres  intelligent ;  il  s'amufoii  a  lui  donner  des  noix 
"  dont  Tanimal  etoit  ires  friand  ;  mais  il  les  ph'^oit  assez 
**  loin,  pour  que  retenu  par  sa  chaine,  le  singe  ne  pUf  pas  les 
*'  aiteiodre  :  apies  bien  des  efforts  inutilt^s  qui  ne  servent 
*'*  qu'a  preparer  Tinvention,  le  singe,  voyani  passer  un  do- 
**  mesiique  portant  une  serviette  sous  le  bras,  fe  saisii  de 
"  cette  serviette,  et  s'en  servit  pour  atteindre  a  la  noix  et 
'*  Tamener  jusqu'  a  lui.  La  maniere  de  casser  la  noix  exi- 
"  gea  une  nouvclle  invention  ;  il  en  vint  a  bout,  en  p]a9:int 
**  la  noix  a  terre,  en  y  faifant  tomber  de  haut  une  pierjeoa 
*'  un  caillou  pour  la  briser.  Vous  vovez.  Monsieur,  que 
*'  sans  avoir  connu,  comme  Gallilee,  les  l»>ixd«r  la  chute  des 
"  corps,  le  singe  avoit  bien  remarque  la  torce  que  ces  corps 
**  acquierent  par  la  chutt;.  Ce  moycn  cependi»nt  se  trouva 
"  en  defaut.  Un  jour  qu'il  avoit  plu,  la  terre  etoit  molle, 
*'  la  noix  enfon^-it,  tt  la  pierre  n'avoit  plus  d'aciion  pour 
"  la  briser.  Que  fii  le  singe  ?  II  alia  chercher  un  tuileau, 
"  pla^alanoix  dr^ssus^eten  laissant  tombe-  la  pierre  il  brisa 
**  la  noix  qui  nN-nfonCoit  plus."— Z)wc6>t/r5  et  memoires  par 

z 


186  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Whether  that  particular  fpecies  of  mechanical  con-* 
trivance  which  has  now  been  mentioned,  and  which 
confifts  merely  in  employing  a  feries  of  phyfical  cau- 
fes  to  accomplifh  an  effeft  which  we  cannot  produce 
immediately,  Ihould  or  fhould  not  be  dignified  with 
the  name  of  reafoning,  1  ftiall  not  now  inquire.  It 
is  fufficient  for  my  prefent  purpofe  to  remark,  that 
it  is  ell'entially  different  from  thofe  intellectual  pro- 
ceffes  to  which  the  ufe  of  iigns  is  indifpenfibly  ne- 
ceffiry.  At  the  fame  time,  I  am  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge, that  what  I  have  now  faid,  is  not  ftrictly  ap- 
plicable to  thofe  more  complicated  mechanical  inven- 
tions, in  which  a  variety  of  powers  are  made  to  con- 
fpire  at  once  to  produce  a  particular  effed.  Such 
contrivances,  perhaps,  may  be  found  to  involve  pro- 
ceffes  of  the  mind  which  cannot  be  carried  on  with- 
out figns.  But  thefe  queftions  will  fall  more  pro- 
perly under  our  confideration  when  we  enter  on  the 
fubject  of  reafoning* 

In  general,  it  may  be  remarked,  that,  in  fo  far  as 
our  thoughts  relate  merely  to  individual  objeds,  or 
to  individual  events,  which  we  have  adually  per- 
ceived, and  of  which  we  retain  a  diftinft  remem- 
brance/ we  are  not  under  the  necelTity  of  employing 

PAvteitr  de  VHistoire  de  VAstronotmc,      A  Paris,    1790, 
tome  ii.  p.  126. 

Admitting  thf;se  facts  to  be  accurately  stated,  the}-  siiH 
leave  an  essential  distinction  between  man  and  brutes  j  for 
in  none  of  the  contrivances  here  mentioned,  is  there  any 
thing  analogous  to  tnose  ihtc  llcctual  processes  which  lead 
ihe  mind  to  general  conclusions,  and  which  (according  to 
the  foregoing  doctrine)  imply  the  use  of  the  general  terms. 
Those  powers,  therefore,  which  enable  us  to  classify  ob- 
jects, and  to  employ  signs  as  an  instrument  of  thought,  are, 
as  far  as  we  can  judge,  peculiar  to  the  human  species. 

*  I  have  thought  it  proper  to  add  this  limitation  of  the 
general  proposition  ;  because  individual  objects^  and  indi- 
vidual events,  which  have  not  fallen  under  the  examination 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  iS? 

words.  It  frequently,  however,  happens,  that  when 
the  fubjeds  of  our  confideration  are  particular,  our 
reafoning  with  refped:  to  them  may  involve  very 
general  notions  ;  and,  in  fuch  cafes,  although  we 
may  conceive,  without  the  ufe  of  words,  the  things 
about  which  we  reafon,  yet  we  muft  neceffarily  have 
recourfe  to  language  in  carrying  on  our  fpeculations 
concerning  them.  If  the  fubjeds  of  our  reafoning 
be  general,  (under  which  defcription  I  include  all 
our  reafonings,  whether  more  or  kfs  comprehenfive, 
which  do  not  relate  merely  to  individuals,)  words 
are  the  fole  objeds  about  which  our  thoughts  are 
employed.  According  as  thefe  words  are  compre- 
henfive or  limited  in  their  lignification,  the  conclu- 
lions  we  form  will  be  more  or  lefs  general ;  but  this 
accidental  circumftance  does  not  in  the  leaft  afFcol 
the  nature  of  the  intelledtual  procefs  ;  fo  that  it  may 
be  laid  down  as  a  propofitijon  which  holds  without 
any  exception,  that,  in  every  cafe,  in  which  we  ex- 

of  our  senses,  cannot  possibly  be  made  the  subjects  of  our 
consideration,  but  by  means  of  language.  The  manner  irj 
whiclj  we  think  of  such  objects  and  events,  is  accurately 
described  in  the  foUowinj^  passage  of  Wollaston  ;  however 
unphiiosophical  the  conclusion  may  be  v/hich  he  iiedu.ces 
from  his  reasoning, 

*^  A  njan  is  not  known  ever  the  more  to  posterity,  because 
*^  his  naii>e  is  transmitted  to  them  ;  he  doih  not  live,  because 
"  his  pame  does.  When  it  is  said,  Julius  Caesar  subdued 
"  Gaul,  beat  Pompey,  changed  liie  Koman  commonwealth 
*'  into  a  monarchy,  Sec.  it  is  the  same  thing  as  to  say,  the 
*'  conqueror  of  Pompey  wa«»  C«sar  ;  that  is,  Csesar,  and  the 
"  conqueror  of  Pompey,  ar^  ihe  siime  thing  ;  and  Caesar  is 
*'  as  much  known  by  the  one  distinction  as  the  other.— 
*'  The  amount  then  is  only  this  :  ihat  the  conqueror  of 
*'  Pompey  conquered  Pompey  ;  or  somebody  concjuered 
**  Pompey  ;  or  rather,  since  Pompey  is  as  litde  known  ncvr 
*'  as  Ciesar,  somebody  conquered  somebody.  Such  a  poor 
'*  business  is  this  boasted  immortality  ;  and  such,  as  has 
'  been  here  described,  is  the  ihiug  calh  d  glory  among  us  T' 
Reli^'wn  of  Nat>  Df.l.  p.  ur. 


18S  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tend  our  fpeculations  beyond  individuals,  language? 
is  not  only  an  ufeful  auxiliary,  but  is  the  fole  inftru- 
ment  by  which  they  are  carried  on. 

Thefs  remarks  naturally  lead  me  to  take  natice  of 
what  forms  the  charaderiftical  diftind:ion  between 
the  fpeculations  of  the  philofopher  and  of  the  f  ulgar. 
It  is  not,  that  the  former  is  accuftomed  to  carry  on 
his  proceffes  of  reafoning  to  a  greater  extent  than 
the  latter  ;  but  that  the  conclufions  he  is  accuftom- 
ed to  form,  are  far  more  comprehenlive,  in  confe- 
quence  of  the  habitual  employment  of  more  compre- 
henlive terms.  Among  the  moft  unenlightened  of 
mankind,  we  often  meet  with  individuals  who  pof- 
fefs  the  reafoning  faculty  in  a  very  eminent  degree  ; 
but  as  this  faculty  is  employed  merely  about  partic- 
ulars, it  never  can  condud  them  to  general  truths  ; 
and,  of  conlequence,  whether  their  purfuits  in  life 
lead  them  to  fpeculation  or  to  adion,  it  can  only  fit 
them  for  d'^ftinguifhing  themfelves  in  fome  very  lim- 
ited and  fubordinate  fphere.  The  philofopher, 
whofe  mind  has  been  familiarifed  by  education,  and 
by  his  own  refiedlions,  to  the  correct  ufe  of  more 
comprehenlive  terms,  is  enabled,  without  perhaps  a 
greater  degree  of  intellectual  exertion  than  is  necef- 
fary  for  managing  the  details  of  ordinary  bufinefs,  to 
arrive  at  general  theorems ;  which,  when  illuftrated 
to  the  lower  dalles  of  men,  in  their  particular  appli- 
cations, feem  to  indicate  a  fertility  of  invention,  lit- 
tle fhort  of  fupernatural* 

*"•  General  reasonings  seem  intricate,  merely  because 
"  ih-y  are  general;  nor  is  it  easy  for  the  bulk  of  mankind 
**  to  (iistingulsh,in  a  great  number  of  pariiculars,  that  com- 
**  mon  circumstance  in  which  they  all  agree,  or  to  extract 
*'  it,  pure  and  unmixt,  from  the  other  superfluous  circum- 
*'  stances.  Every  judgment  or  conclusion  with  them  is 
*'  pa'ticular.  They  cannot  enlarge  their  view  to  those  uni- 
"  versal  propositions,  ^vhich  comprehend  under  them  an  in- 
*'  finite  number  of  individuals,  and  include  a  v/hole  science 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  189 

The  analogy  of  the  algebraical  art  may  be  of  uib 
in  iUuftrating  thefe  obfervations.  The  difference,  in 
fa6l,  between  the  inveiligations  we  carry  on  by  its 
aflillance,  and  othtr  procefles  of  reafoning,  is  more 
inconfiderable  than  is  commonly  imagined  ;  and,  if 
I  am  not  miftaken,  amounts  only  to  this,  that  the 
former  are  expreffed  in  an  appropriated  language, 
with  which  we  are  not  accuftomed  to  alTociate  par- 
ticular notions.  Hence  they  exhibit  the  efficacy  of 
figns  as  an  inftrument  of  thought  in  a  more  diflinct 
and  palpable  manner,  than  the  Ipeculations  we  car- 
ry on  by  words,  which  are  continually  awakening 
the  power  of  Conception. 

When  the  celebrated  Vieta  fhewed  algebraifts, 
that,  by  fubftituting  in  their  invefligations  letters  of 
the  alphabet,  inftead  of  known  quantities,  they  might 
render  the  folution  of  every  problem  lubfervient  to 
the  difcovery  of  a  general  truth,  he  did  not  increafe 
the  difHculty  of  algebraical  reafonings  ;  he  only  en- 
larged the  lignification  of  the  terms  in  which  they 
were  expreffed.  And  if,  in  teaching  that  fcience,  it 
is  found  expedient  to  accuftom  itudents  to  folve 
problems  by  means  of  the  particular  numbers  which 
are  given,  before  they  are  made  acquainted  with  lit- 
eral or  fpecious  arithmetic,  it  is  not  becaufe  the  for-. 
mer  procefles  are  lefs  intricate  than  the  latter,  but  be- 
caufe their  fcope  and  utility  are  more  obvious,  and 
becaufe  it  is  more  eafy  to  illuftrate,  by  examples  than 
by  words,  the  difference  between  a  particular  couj- 
cluiion,  and  a  general  theorem. 

The  difference  between  the  intelleflual  procefTes 
of  the  vulgar  and  of  the  philofopher,  is  perfectly  a- 
nalogous  to  that  between  the  two  dates  of  the  alge- 

**  in  a  singli;  theorem.  Their  eve  is  confounded  with  such 
"  an  exici^s  ve  prospect  ;  and  the  conclusior.s  derived  fr(  m 
"  it,  «;ven  though  clearly  expressed,  seem  intricate  and  ob- 
scure." 

Hume's  Political  Discourses. 


190  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

braical  art  before  and  after  the  time  of  Vieta  ;  the 
general  terms  which  are  ufed  in  the  various  fciences, 
giving  to  thofe  who  can  employ  them  with  corred:- 
nefs  and  dexterity,  the  fame  fort  of  advantage  over 
the  uncultivated  iagacity  of  the  bulk  of  mankind, 
which  the  expert  algebraift  pofleffes  over  the  arith* 
fnetical  accomptant. 

If  the  foregoing  dodrine  be  admitted  as  juft,  it 
exhibits  a  view  of  the  utility  of  language,  which  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  peculiarly  (Iriking  and  beautiful ; 
as  it  fhews  that  the  fame  taculties  which,  without 
the  ufe  of  figns,  muft  neceffariiy  Iiave  been  limited 
to  the  confideration  of  individual  obje<5is  and  partic- 
ular events,  are,  by  means  of  figns,  fitted  to  embrace, 
without  effort,  thofe  comprehenfive  theorems,  to  the 
difcovery  of  which,  in  detail,  the  united  efforts  of 
the  whole  human  race  would  ha/e  been  unequal. 
The  advantage  our  animal  Ifrength  acquires  by  the 
ufe  of  mechanical  engines,  exhibits  but  a  faint  inu 
age  of  that  increafe  of  our  intelle(5tual  capacity  which 
we  owe  to  language. — It  is  this  increafe  of  our  nat- 
ural powers  of  comprehenfion,  which  feems  to  be 
the  principal  foundation  of  the  pleafure  we  receive 
from  the  difcovery  of  general  theorems.  Such  a 
dffcovery  gives  us  at  once  the  command  of  an  infin- 
ite variety  of  particular  truths,  and  cotnmunicates 
to  the  mind  a  fentiment  of  its  own  power,  not  un- 
like tt>  what  we  feel  when  we  contemplate  the  mag- 
nitude of  thofe  phyfical  effects,  of  which  we  have 
acquired  the  command  by  our  mechanical  contri- 
vances. 

It  may  perhaps  appear,  at  firfl,  to  be  a  farther  con- 
fequence  of  the  prmciples  I  have  been  endeavoring 
to  eflablifh,  that  the  difficulty  of  philofophical  diC 
coveries  is  much  lefs  than  is  commonly  imagined  j 
but  the  truth  is,  it  only  follows  from  them,  that  this 
difficulty  is  of  a  different  nature  from  what  we  are 
apt  to  fuppofe,  on  a  fuperficial  view  of  the  fubjed. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  Mmo.  191 

To  employ,  with  Ikill,  the  very  delicate  inllrument 
which  nature  has  made  eflentially  fubfervient  to 
general  reaioning,  and  to  guard  againft  the  errors 
which  refult  from  an  injudicious  ufe  of  it,  require 
an  uncommon  capacity  of  patient  attention,  and  a 
cautious  circumfpeclion  in  conducing  our  various 
intelleclual  proceffes,  which  can  only  be  acquired  by 
early  habits  of  philofophical  refledlion.  To  aflift  and 
dired  us  in  making  this  acquifition  ought  to  form 
the  moft  important  branch  of  a  rational  logic  ;  a 
fcience  of  far  more  extenfive  utility,  and  of  which 
the  principles  lie  much  deeper  in  the  philofopby  of 
the  human  mind,  than  the  trifling  art  which  is  com- 
monly dignified  with  that  name.  The  branch  in 
particular  to  which  the  foregoing  obfervations  more 
immediately  relate,  muft  forever  remain  in  its  in- 
fancy, till  a  moft  difficult  and  important  defidera- 
tum  in  the  hiftory  of  the  mind  is  fupplied,  by  an  ex- 
planation of  the  gradual  fteps  by  which  it  acquires 
the  ufe  of  the  various  clafles  of  words  which  com- 
pole  the  language  of  a  cultivated  and  enlightened 
people.  Of  fome  of  the  errors  in  reafoning  to  which 
we  are  expofed  by  an  incautious  ufe  of  words,  I 
took  notice  in  the  preceding  fedion  ;  and  I  Ihall 
have  occafion  afterwards  to  treat  the  fame  fubjed 
more  in  detail  in  a  fubfequent  part  of  my  work. 


SECTION  VI. 

Of  the  Errors  to  which  ive  are  liable  in  Speculation,  and 
in  the  condud  of  affairs ^  in  confcquence  of  a  rafh  appli- 
cation of  general  Principles* 

IT  appears  fufficiendy  from  the  reafonings  which 
I  offered  in  the  preceding  Setlion,  how  important 
are  the  advantages  wliich  the  philofopher  acquires, 
by  quitting  the  ftudy  of  particular'^:,  and  dirccling 


192  ELEMENTS  OP  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

his  attention  to  general  principles.  I  flatter  myfelf 
it  appears  farther,  from  the  fame  reafonings,  that  it 
is  in  confequenee  of  the  ufe  of  language  alone,  that 
the  human  mind  is  rendered  capable  of  thefe  com- 
prehenfive  ipeculations. 

In  order,  however,  to  proceed  with  fafety  in  the 
tife  of  general  principles,  much  caution  and  addrefs 
are  neceffary,  both  in  eftablifliing  their  truth,  and 
in  applying  them  to  practice.  Without  a  proper 
attention  to  the  circumftances  by  which  their  appli* 
cation  to  particular  cafes  muft  be  modified,  they 
will  be  a  perpetual  fource  of  miftake,  and  of  difap- 
pointment,  in  the  condufl  of  affairs,  huwever  rigid- 
ly juft  they  may  be  in  themfelves,  and  however  ac- 
curately we  may  reafon  from  them.  If  our  general 
principles  happen  to  be  falfe,  they  will  involve  us 
in  errors,  not  only  of  conduct  but  of  (peculation  ; 
and  our  errors  will  be  the  more  numerous^  the  more 
comprehenfive  the  principles  are  on  which  we  pro- 
ceed. 

To  illuftrate  thefe  obfervations  fully,  would  lead 
to  a  minutenefs  of  dilquifition  inconfiftent  with  my 
general  plan  ;  and  I  fhall  therefore,  at  prefent,  con- 
fine myfelf  to  fuch  remarks  as  appear  to  be  of  moft 
elTential  im]>ortance. 

And,  in  the  firft  place,  it  is  evidently  impofiible 
to  eftablifh  folid  general  principles,  without  the  pre- 
vious lludy  of  particulars  ;  in  other  words,  it  is  ne- 
celLiry  to  begin  with  the  examination  of  individual 
objeds,  and  individual  events;  in  order  to  lay  a 
ground- work  of  accurate  clafiification,  and  for  a 
juft  inveiligation  of  the  laws  of  nature.  It  is  in 
this  way  only  that  we  can  expect  to  arrive  at  gene- 
ral principles,  which  may  be  fafely  relied  on,  as 
guides  to  the  knowledge  of  particular  truths  :  and 
unless  our  principles  admit  of  such  a  pradical  ap- 
plication, however  beautiful  they  may  appear  to  be 
in  theory,  they  are  of  far  less  value  than  the  iimit- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  193 

ed  acquifitions  of  the  vulgar.  The  truth  of  thefe 
remarks  is^now  fo  univerfally  admitted,  and  is  in- 
deed fo  obvious  in  itfelf,  that  it  would  be  fuperflu- 
ous  to  multiply  words  in  fupporting  them  ;  and  I 
fhould  fcarcely  have  thought  of  ftating  them  in 
this  Chapter,  if  lome  of  the  moft  celebrated  philof- 
ophers  of  antiquity  had  not  been  led  to  difputc 
them,  in  conlequence  of  the  miftaken  opinions 
which  they  entertiiined  concerning  the  nature  of  u- 
niverfals.  Forgetting  that  genera  and  /pedes  are 
mere  arbitrary  creations  which  the  human  mind 
forms,  by  withdrawing  the  attention  from  the  dif. 
tinguifhing  qualities  of  objects,  and  giving  a  common 
name  to  their  refembling  qualities,  they  conceived 
univerfals  to  be  real  exiliences,  or,  (as  they  expref- 
fed  it)  to  be  the  elTences  of  individuals  ;  and  flatter- 
ed themfelves  with  the  belief,  that  by  direding  tlieir 
attention  to  thefe  eHences  m  the  firft  inftance,  they 
might  be  enabled  to  penetrate  the  fecrets  of  the  uni- 
verfe,  without  fubmittiiig  to  the  ftudy  of  nature  in 
detail.  Thefe  errors,  which  were  common  to  the 
Piatonifts  and  the  Peripatetics,  and  which  both  of 
them  feem  to  have  adopted  from  the  Pythagorean 
fchool,  contributed,'  perhaps,  more  than  any  thing 
elfe,  to  retard  the  progrefs  of  the  ancients  in  phyfic- 
al  knowledge.  The  late  learned  Mr.  Harris  is  al- 
moft  the  only  author  of  the  prefent  age  who  has 
ventured  to  defend  this  plan  of  philolophifing,  in 
oppofition  to  that  which  has  been  fo  fuccelstuiiy  fol- 
lowed by  the  difciples  of  lord  Bucon. 

"  The  Platonics,"  fays  he,  "  confidering  fcience 
"  as  fomething  aicertained,  definite,  and  fleady, 
*'  would  admit  nothing  to  be  its  objccSi:  which  was 
*'  vague,  indefinite,  and  paffing.  For  this  realon 
*'  they  excluded  all  individuals  or  objeds  of  fenle, 
"  and  (as  Amutor.ius  oxprefles  it)  railed  themfelves 
*'  in  their  contemplations  from  beings  particular  to 
"beings  univerfal,  and  which,  from  their  own  na^ 
Aa 


194*  ELEMENTS  OE  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  ture,  were  eternarl  and  definite.'" — "  Confonant  to" 
"  this  was  the  advice  of  Plato,  with  refpecl  to  the 
"  progrefs  of  our  fpeculations  and  inquiries,  to  de- 
"  fcend  from  thofe  hi^s^her  genera,  which  include  ma- 
**  ny  fubordinate  fpecies,  down  to  the  loweft  rank 
**  of  fpecies,  thofe  which  include  only  individuals. 
*'  But  here  it  was  his  opinion,  that  our  inquiries 
*'  fhould  flop,  and,  as  to  individuals,  let  them  whol- 
*'  ly  alone  ;  becaufe  of  th^fe  there  could  not  pofTibly 
*'  be  any  fcience/'* 

"  Such,"  continues  this  author,  "  was  the  method 
^*  of  ancient  philofophy.  The  fafliion,  at  prefent, 
"  appears  to  be  fomewhat  altered,  and  the  bufinefs 
*'  of  philofophers  to  be  little  elfe  than  the  colleding 
*'  from  every  quarter,  into  voluminous  records,  an 
**  infinite  number  of  fenfible,  particular,  and  uncon- 
•'  neded  fads,  the  chief  effect  of  which  is  to  excite 
**  our  admiration." — In  another  part  of  his  works 
the  fame  author  obferves,  that  "  the  mind,  truly 
*'  wife,  quitting  the  ftudy  of  particulars,  as  knowing 
*'  their  multitude  to  be  infinite  and  incomprehenfi- 
*'  ble,  turns  its  intellectual  eye  to  what  is  general 
**  and  comprehcnfive,  and  through  generals  learns  to 
•'  fee,  and  recognife  whatever  exifts."t 

If  we  abftract  from  thefe  obvious  errors  of  the  an- 
cient philofophers,  with  refped  to  the  proper  order 
to  be  obferved  ia  our  inquiries,  and  only  fuppofe 
them  to  end  where  the  Piatonifts  faid  that  they 
fliould  begin  the  magnificent  encomiums  they  be- 
ftowed  on  the  utility  of  thofe  comprehenfive  truths 
which  form  the  obje<5l:  of  fcience  (making  allowance 
for  the  obfcure  and  myfterious  terms  in  which  they 
expreffed  them)  can  icarcely  be  regarded  as  extrava- 
gant. It  is  probable  tiiat  from  a  few  accidental  in- 
ilances  of  luccefsful  inveftigation,  they  had  beeis 

*  Harris's  Three  Treatises,  page  341,  342. 
t  Ibid  p.  227. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  195 

•itruck  with  the  wonderful  effed  of  general  principles 
in  increafmg  the  intdledual  power  of  the  human 
mind  ;  and,  mifled  by  that  impatience  in  the  fludy 
of  particulars  which  is  fo  often  connected  with  the 
confcioufnefs  of  fuperior  ability,  they'labored  to  per- 
fuade  themfelves,  that,  by  a  life  devoted  to  abftrad 
meditation,  fuch  principles  might  be  rendered  as 
immediate  objeds  of  intellectual  perception,  as  the 
individuals  which  compofe  the  material  world  arc 
of  our  external  fenfes.  By  connedling  this  opinion 
with  their  other  d®clrlnes  concerning  univerlals, 
they  were  unfortunately  enabled  to  exhibit  it  in  fo 
myfterious  a  form,  as  not  only  to  impofe  on  them- 
felves, but  to  perplex  the  underilandings  of  all  the 
Jearned  in  Europe,  for  a  long  fuccefllon  of  ages. 

The  conclulion  to  which  we  are  led  by  the  fore- 
going obfervations  is,  that  the  foundation  of  all  hu- 
man knowledge  muft  be  laid  in  the  examination  of 
particular  objects  and  particular  fad:s  ;  and  that  it  is 
only  as  far  as  our  general  principles  are  refolvable 
into  thefe  primary  elements,  that  they  poflefs  either 
truth  or  utility.  It  muft  not,  however,  be  under- 
llood  to  be  implied  in  this  conclufion,  that  all  our 
knowledge  muft  ultimately  reft  on  our  own  proper 
experience.  If  this  were  the  cafe,  the  progrefs  of 
fcience,  and  the  progrefs  of  human  improvement, 
muft  have  been  wonderfully  retarded  ;  for,  if  it  had 
been  neceftary  for  each  individual  to  torm  a  claflifi- 
cation  of  objects,  in  confequence  of  obfervations  and 
abftradtions  of  his  own,  and  to  infer  from  the  actual 
examination  of  particular  facts,  the  general  truths  on 
which  his  conduct  proceeds  ;  human  aftVirs  would 
at  this  day  remain  nearly  in  the  fame  ftate  to  which 
they  were  brought  by  the  experience  of  the  firft  gen- 
eration. In  fact,  this  is  very  nearly  the  (ituation  of 
the  fpecies  in  all  thole  parts  of  the  world,  in  which 
"the  exiftence  of  the  race  depends  on  the  feparate  ef- 
forts which  each  individual  makes,  in  procuring  for 


196  fiLEMENTS  OF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

himfelf  the  necefTaries  of  life  ;  and  in  which,  of  con- 
fequence,  the  habits  and  acquirements  of  each  indi- 
vi«lual  muft  be  the  refuk  of  his  own  perfonal  expe- 
rience. In  cultivated  fociety,  one  of  the  firft  acqui- 
iitions  which  children  make,  is  the  ufe  of  language  ; 
by  which  means  they  are  familiarifed.  from  their 
earlieft  years,  to  the  confideratic  »n  of  ciiilTes  of  objedls, 
and  of  general  truths  ;  and  before  that  time  of  life 
at  which  the  favage  is  poffefTed  of  the  knowledge  ne- 
celTary  for  his  own  prefervation,  are  ena' 'led  to  ap- 
propriate to  themfelves  the  accumulated  dilcoveries 
of  ages. 

Notwithftanding,  however,  the  ftationary  condi- 
tion in  which  the  race  mult,  of  neceflity,  continue, 
prior  to  the  feparation  of  arts  and  profeflions  ;  the 
natural  difpofition  of  the  mind  to  afcend  from  par- 
ticular truths  to  general  conclufions,  could  not  fail  to 
lead  individuals,  even  in  the  rudeft  itate  of  fociety, 
to  colled:  the  refults  of  their  experience,  for  their 
own  inftrudion  and  that  of  others.     But,  without 
the  ufe  of  general  terms,  the  only  poilible  way  of 
communicating  fuch  conclulions,  would  be  by  means 
of  fome  particular  example,  of  which  the  general 
application   was  (Iriking   and  obvious.      In   other 
•words,  the  wifdom  of  luch  ages  will  neceflarily  be 
exprefTed  in  the  form  of  fables  or  parables,  or  in  the 
Hill  (impler  form  of  proverbial  inftances  ;  and  not  in 
the  fcientific  form  of  general  maxims.     In  this  way, 
undoubtedly,  much  ufeful  inftrudion,both  of  a  pru- 
dential and  moral  kind,  might  be  conveyed :  at  the 
fame  time,  it  is  obvious,  that,  while  general  truths 
continued  to  be  exprefsed  merely  by  particular  exem- 
plifications, they  would  afford  little  or  no  opportu- 
nity to  one  generation  to  improve  on  the  fpeculations 
of  another  ;  as  no  effort  of  the  underflanding  could 
combine  them  together,  or  employ  them  as  premifes, 
in  order  to  obtain  other  conclufions  more  remote 
and  comprehenfive.    For  this  purpofe,  it  is  ablolute- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  197 

ly  neceflary  that  the  fcope  or  nidral  of  the  fable 
fliouU  be  feparated  entirely  from  its  acceflfory  cir- 
cumftances,  and  ftated  in  the  form  of  a  g-^nerai  pro- 
poiition. 

From  what  has  nvow  been  faid,  it  appears,  how 
much  the  progrefs  of  human  reafon,  which  neceffa- 
rily  accompanies  the  progrefs  of  Ibciety,  is  owing  to 
the  introduction  of  general  terms,  and  to  the  ui'e  of 
general  proportions.  In  confpquence  of  the  gradual 
improvements  which  take  place  in  language  as  an 
inftrument  of  thought,  the  claffifications  both  of 
things  and  fids  with  which  the  infant  faculties  of 
each  fucceflive  race  are  converfant,  are  more  juil  and 
more  comprehenfive  than  thofe  of  their  predeceflors : 
the  difcoveries  which,  in  one  age,  were  confined  to 
the  ftudious  and  enlightened  few,  becoming  in  the 
next  the  eftabliflied  creed  of  the  learned  ;  and  in  the 
third,  forming  part  of  ttie  elementary  principles  of 
education.  Indeed,  among  thofe  who  enjoy  the  ad- 
vantages of  early  inftru6lion,fome  of  the  moll  remote 
and  wonderful  conclufions  of  the  human  intelled, 
are,  even  in  infancy,  as  completely  famiUarifed  to 
the  mind,  as  the  moil  obvious  phenomena  which 
the  material  world  exhibits  to  their  fenfes. 

If  thefe  remarks  be  juft,  they  open  an  unbounded 
profpedt  of  intellectual  improvement  to  future  ages  ; 
as  they  point  out  a  provifion  made  by  nature  to  fa- 
cilitate and  abridge,  more  and  more,  the  procefs  of 
ftudy,  in  proportion  as  the  truths  to  be  acquired  in- 
creafe  in  number.  Nor  is  this  profped  derived  from 
theory  alone.  It  is  encouraged  by  the  pad  hillory 
of  all  the  fciences ;  in  a  more  particular  man^^er,  by 
that  of  mathematics,  in  which  the  ftate  of  difcovery, 
and  the  prevailing  methods  of  inftrudion,  may,  at 
all  times  be  eafily  compared  together.  In  this  lail 
obfervation  I  have  been  anticipated  by  a  late  emi- 
nent mathematician,  whofe  eloquent  and  philofoph- 
ical  llatement  of  the  argument  cannot  fail  to  carry 


198  ELExMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

convi6lion  to  thofe,  who  are  qualified  to  judge  ot 
the  fads  on  which  his  conclufion  is  founded  : 

"  To  fuch  ot  my  readers,  as  may  be  flow  in 
*'  admitting  the  poflibility  of  this  progreffive  im- 
*'  provement  in  the  human  race,  allow  me  to  ftate 
*'  as  an  example,  the  hiflory  of  that  fcience  in  which 
**  the  advances  of  difcovery  are  the  moft  certain,  and 
"  in  which  they  may  be  meafured  with  the  greateft 
*' precifion.  Thofe  elementary  truths  of  geometry 
^'  and  of  aftronomy  which,  in  India  and  Egypt, 
*'  formed  an  occult  fcience,  upon  which  an  ambitious 
*'  priefthood  founded  its  influence,  were  become,  in 
*'  the  times  of  Archimedes  and  Hipparchus,  the  fub- 
*'  je6ls  of  common  education  in  the  public  fchools  of 
*'  Greece.  In  the  lafl:  century,  a  few  years  of  fludy 
"  were  fufficient  for  comprehending  all  that  Archi- 
*'  medes  and  Hipparchus  knew  ;  and,  at  prefent, 
*'  two  years  employed  under  an  able  teacher,  carry 
*'  the  ftudent  beyond  thofe  conclufions,  which  limit- 
*'  ed  the  inquiries  of  Leibnitz  and  of  Newton.  Let 
**  any  perfon  reflect  on  thefe  fads  :  let  him  follow 
*'  the  immenfe  chain  which  conneds  the  inquiries  of 
*'  Euler  with  thofe  of  a  Prieft  of  Memphis  ;  let  him 
"  obferve,  at  each  epoch,  how  genius  outftrips  the 
*'  prefent  age,  and  how  it  is  overtaken  by  mediocrity 
*•  in  the  next  ;  he  will  perceive,  that  nature  has 
"  furniflied  us  with  the  means  of  abridging  and  fa- 
*'  cilitating  our  intelledual  labor,  and  that  there  is 
*'  no  reafon  for  apprehending  that  fuch  fimplifica- 
*'  tions  can  ever  have  an  end.  He  will  perceive, 
^^  that  at  the  moment  when  a  multitude  of  particu- 
"  lar  folutions,  and  of  infulated  fads,  begin  to  dis- 
"  trad  the  attention,  and  to  overcharge  the  memo- 
"  ry,  the  former  gradually  lofe  themfelves  in  one 
*'  general  method,  and  the  latter  unite  in  one  gen- 
*'  eral  law  ;  and  that  thefe  generalizations  continu- 
*'  ally  fucceeding  on.e  to  another,  like  the  fucceilive 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  ,     I9^ 

**  multiplications  of  a  number  by  itfelf,  have  no 
^  other  limit,  than  that  infinity  which  the  human 
"  faculties  are  unable  to  comprehend.* 


SECTION  VII. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Subje6l^ — Differences  in  the  In* 
ielledual  Charaders  of  Individuals^  arifingfrom  their 
Afferent  Habits  of  Ab/ira6lion  and  Generalifation, 

IN  mentioning  as  one  of  the  principal  efFeci:s  of 
civllifation,  its  tendency  to  familiarife  the  mind  to 
general  terms,  and  to  general  propofitions,  I  did  not 
mean  to  fay,  that  this  influence  extends  equally  to 
all  the  claffes  of  men  in  fociety.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  evidently  confined,  in  a  great  meafure,  to  thofe 
who  receive  a  liberal  education  ;  while  the  minds  of 
the  lower  orders,  like  thofe  of  favages,  are  fo  habitu- 
ally occupied  about  particular  objeds  and  particular 
events,  that,  although  they  are  fometimes  led,  from 
imitation,  to  employ  general  exprefilons,  the  ufe 
which  they  make  of  them  is  much  more  the  refult  of 
memor}'  than  judgment ;  and  it  is  but  feldom  that 
they  are  able  to  comprehend  fully,  any  procefs  of 
reafoning  in  which  they  are  involved. 

It  is  hardly  neceffary  for  me  to  remark,  that  this 
obfervation,  with  refpe6l:  to  the  incapacity  of  the 
vulgar  for  general  fpeculations,  (Pike  all  obfervations 
of  a  fimilar  nature,)  mufl  be  received  with  fome  re- 
ftrictions.  In  fuch  a  ftate  of  fociety  as  that  in  which 
we  live,  there  is  hardly  any  individual  to  be  found, 
to  whom  fome  general  terms,  and  Ibme  general 
truths,  are  not  pertedly  familiar  ;  and,  thei  efore,  the 
foregoing  conclulions  are  to  be  confidercd  as  deicrip- 
tive  of  thofe  habits  of  thought  alone,  which  are  moll 

*  See  Note  [M.] 


200  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

prevalent  in  their  mind.  To  abridge  the  labor  of 
reafoning,  and  of  memnry,  by  direding  the  attention 
to  general  principles,  inftead  of  particular  truths,  is 
the  profefled  aim  of  all  philofophy  ;  and  according 
as  individuals  have  more  or  lels  of  the  philofophic 
fpirit,  their  habitual  fpeculations  (whatever  the  na- 
ture of  their  purfuits  may  be)  will  relate  to  the  for- 
mer, or  to  the  latter,  of  thefe  obje^fls. 

There  are,  therefore,  among  the  men  who  are  ac- 
cuftomed  to  the  exercile  of  their  intelleffual  powers, 
two  claiTes,  whofe  habits  of  thought  are  remarkalDly 
diftinguillied  from  each  other  ;  the  one  clafs  com- 
prehending  what  we  commonly  call  men  of  bufinefs, 
or,  more  properly,  men  of  detail  ^  the  other,  men 
of  abftradlion  ;  or,  in  other  words,  philofophers. 

The  advantages  which,  in  certain  rcfpefts,  the 
latter  of  thefe  poflefs  over  the  former,  have  been 
already  pointed  out  ;  but  it  muft  not  be  fuppofed, 
that  thefe  advantages  are  always  pur  chafed  without 
fome  inconvenience.  As  the  folidity  of  our  general 
principles  depends  on  the  accuracy  of  the  particular 
obfervations  into  which  they  are  ultimately  refolva- 
ble,  fo  their  utility  is  to  be  eftimated  by  the  practical 
applications  of  which  they  admit  :  and  it  unfortu- 
nately happens,  that  the  fame  turn  of  mind  which  is 
favourable  to  philofophical  purfuits,  unlefs  it  be  kept 
under  proper  regulation,  is  extremely  apt  to  difqual- 
ify  us  for  applying  our  knowledge  to  ufe,  in  the  ex- 
ercife  of  the  arts,  and  in  the  conduct  of  affairs. 

In  order  to  perceive  the  truthof  thefe  remarks,  it 
is  almoft  fulEcient  to  recollect,  that  as  claflification, 
and,  of  confequence,  general  reafoning,  prefuppofe 
the  exercife  of  abftraftion  ;  a  natural  dilpofition  to 
indulge  in  them,  cannot  fail  to  lead  the  mind  to  over- 
look the  fpecific  difference  of  things,  in  attending  to 
their  common  qualities.  To  fucceed,  however,  in 
pradice,  a  familiar  and  circumftantial  acquaintance 
with  the  particular  objects  which  fall  under  our  ob- 
fervation,  is  indifpenlably  neceffary. 


OF  THfi  HUMAN  MIND.  201 

But,  farther  ;  As  all  general  principles  are  founded 
on  claffifications  which  imply  the  exercife  of  abilrac- 
tions  ;  it  is  neceflary  to  regard  them,  in  their  prac- 
tical applications,  merely  as  approxinidtions  to  the 
truth  ;  the  defeds  of  which,  muft  be  fupplied  by 
habits  acquired  by  perfonal  experience.  In  conlid- 
ering,  for  example,  the  theory  of  the  mechanical 
powers  ;  it  is  ufual  to  hmplify  the  objects  of  our 
conception,  by  abftracling  from  friction,  and  from 
the  weight  of  the  different  parts  of  which  they  are 
compofed.  Levers  are  confidered  as  mathematical 
lines,  perfectly  inflexible  ;  and  ropcb,  as  matheniati- 
cal  lines,  perfectly  flexible  ;  and  by  means  of  thefe, 
and  fimilar  abftraclions,  a  fubjecf,  which  is  in  itfeif 
extremely  complicated,  is  brought  within  the  reach 
of  elementary  geometry.  In  the  theory  of  politics, 
we  find  it  neceflary  to  abftracf  from  many  of  the 
peculiarities  which  diftinguifli  diff'erent  forms  of 
government  from  each  other,  and  to  reduce  them  to 
certain  general  clafles,  according  to  their  prevailirg 
tendency.  Although  all  the  governments  we  have 
ever  feen,  have  had  more  or  lefs  of  mixture  in  their 
compofltion,  we  reafon  concerning  pure  monarchies, 
pure  ariftocracies,  and  pure  democracies,  as  if  thei  e 
really  exifted  political  eftablifliments  correfpondirg 
to  our  definitions.  Without  fuch  a  claflification,  it 
would  be  impoflible  for  us  to  fix  our  attention,  amidfl: 
the  multiplicity  of  particulars  which  the  iiibjed  pre- 
fents  to  us,  or  to  arrive  at  any  general  principles, 
which  might  f^rve  to  guide  our  enquiries  in  com* 
paring  different  inftitutions  together. 

It  is  for  a  fimilar  reafon,  that  the  fpeculative  farmer 
reduces  the  infinite  variety  of  foils  to  a  few  general 
defcriptions  5  the  phyfician,  the  infinite  variety  of 
bodily  conftitutions  to  a  few  temperaments  ;  and 
the  moralift,  the  infinite  variety  of  human  characters 
to  a  few  of  the  ruling  principles  of  action. 

Notwithftanding,  however,  the  obvious  advanta- 
Bb 


202  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ges  we  derive  from  thefe  clafTifications,  and  the  gen- 
eral conclufions  to  which  they  lead  ;  it  is  evidently 
impollible,  that  principles,  which  derived  their  ori- 
gin from  efforts  of  abilra^lion,  ftiould  apply  literally 
to  praciice  ;  or,  indeed,  that  they  {hould  afford  us 
any  confiderable  affiftance  in  conduct,  without  a 
certain  degree  of  practical  and  experimental  fkill. 
Hence  it  is,  that  the  mere  theorift  fo  frequently  ex- 
pofes  himfelf,  in  real  life,  to  the  ridicule  of  men 
whom  he  defpifes  ;  and  in  the  geneal  eftimation  of 
the  world,  falls  below  the  level  of  the  common 
drudges  in  bufinefs  and  the  arts.  The  walk,  indeed, 
of  thefe  unenlightened  praditioners,  muft  neceifari- 
ly  be  limited  by  their  accidental  opportunities  of  ex- 
perience ;  but,  fo  far  as  they  go,  they  operate  with 
facility  and  fuccefs  ;  while  the  merely  fpeculative 
philofopher,  although  pofTelfed  of  principles  which 
enable  him  to  approximate  to  the  truth,  in  an  infin- 
ite variety  of  untried  cafes,  and  although  he  fees, 
with  pity,  the  narrow  views  of  the  multitude,  and 
the  ludicrous  pretenfions  with  which  they  frequent- 
ly oppofe  their  trifling  fuccelTes  to  his  theoretical  fpec- 
ulations,  finds  himfelf  perfecl:ly  at  a  lofs,  when  he  is 
called  upon,  by  the  fimpleil  occurrences  of  ordinary 
life,  to  carry  his  principles  into  execution.  Hence 
the  origin  of  that  maxim,  "  which"  (as  Mr.  Hume 
remarks)  "  has  been  fo  induftriouHy  propagated  by 
*^  the  dunces  of  every  age,  that  a  man  of  genius  is 
unfit  for  bufinefs." 

In  what  confifts  practical  or  experimental  Ikill,  it 
is  not  eafy  to  explain  completely  ;  but,  among  other 
things,  it  obvioufly  implies,  a  talent  for  minute  and 
comprehenfive  and  rapid  obfervation  ;  a  memory, 
at  once  retentive  and  ready  ;  in  order  to  prefent  to 
us  accurately,  and  without  reflection,  our  theoi  et'cal 
knowledge ;  a  prefence  of  mind,  not  to  be  difcon- 
certed  by  unexpectv^d  occurrences  ;  and,  in  fome 
cafes,  an  uncommon  degree  of  perfection  in  the  ex- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  2QS 

ternal  fenfes,  and  in  the  mechanical  capacities  of  the 
body.  All  thefe  elements  of  praclical  (kill,  it  is  ob- 
vious, are  to  be  acquired  only  by  habits  of  active  ex- 
ertion,  and  by  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  real  oc- 
currences ;  for,  as  all  the  pradical  principles  of  our 
nature,  both  intellecflual  and  animal,  have  a  reference 
to  particulars,  and  not  to  generals,  fo  it  is  in  the  ac* 
tive  fcenes  of  life  alone,  and  amidft  the  details  of  bu- 
finefs,  that  they  can  be  cultivated  and  improved. 

The  remarks  which  have  been  already  made,  are 
fufficienc  to  iiluftrate  the  impoifibility  of  acquiring 
a  talent  for  bufmefs,  or  for  any  of  the  pradical  arts 
of  life,  without  actual  experience.  They  Ihew  alfo, 
that  mere  experience,  without  theory,  may  qualify 
a  man,  in  certain  cafes,  for  diftinguifhing  himfeif  in 
both.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  imagined,  that  in 
this  way  individuals  are  to  be  formed  for  the  un- 
common, or  for  the  important  fituations  of  fociety, 
or  even  for  enriching  the  arts  by  new  inventions  5 
for,  as  their  addrefs  and  dexterity  are  founded  en- 
tirely on  imitation,  or  derived  from  the  lelTons  which 
experience  has  fuggefted  to  them,  they  cannot  polli- 
bly  extend  to  new  combinations  of  circumftances. 
Mere  experience,  therefore,  can,  at  beft,  prepare  the 
mind  for  the  fubordinate  departments  or  Hfe  ;  for 
conducting  the  eftabliflied  routine  of  bufiiiefs,  or  for 
a  ferviie  repetition  in  the  arts  of  common  opera- 
tions. 

In  the  charader  of  Mr.  George  Grenville,  which 
Mr.  Burke  introduced  in  his  celebrated  Speech  on 
American  Taxation,  a  lively  pidture  is  drawn  of  the 
infudiciency  of  mere  experience  to  qualify  a  man  for 
new  and  untried  fituations  in  the  adminiftration  of 
government.  The  obfervations  he  makes  on  this 
fubject,  are  exprelTed  with  his  ufual  beauty  and  feli- 
city of  language  ;  and  are  of  fo  general  a  nature, 
that,  with  fome  trifling  alterations,  they  may  be  ex- 
tended to  all  the  pradical  purfuits  of  life. 


204  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Mr.  Grenville  was  bred  to  the  law,  whkh  is,  in 
*'  my  opinion,  one  of  the  firft  and  nobleft  of  human 
*'  fciences  ;  a  fcience  which  does  more  to  quicken 
*'  and  invigorate  'heunderftanding,  than  all  the  oth- 
*'  er  kinds  of  learn* ng  put  together  ;  but  it  is  not 
"  apt,  except  in  perfons  very  happily  born,  to  open 
*'  and  to  liberalife  the  mind  exactly  in  the  fame  pro- 
*'  P')rtion.  Pafling  from  that  fludy,  he  did  not  go 
"  very  largely  into  the  world,  but  plunged  into  bu- 
"  linefs  ;  I  mean,  into  bufinefs  of  office,  and  the  lim- 
*'  ited  and  fixed  methods  and  forms  eftabliftied 
*'  there.  Much  knowledge  is  to  be  had,  undoubted- 
*'  ly,  in  that  line  ;  and  there  is  no  knowledge  which 
*'  is  not  valuable.  But  it  may  be  truly  laid,  that 
"  men  too  much  converfant  in  office,  are  rarely 
*'  minds  of  remarkable  enlarajement.  Their  habits 
*'  of  office  are  apt  to  give  them  a  turn  to  think  the 
*'  fubftance  of  bufinefs  not  to  be  much  more  impor- 
"  tant,  than  the  forms  in  which  it  is  conducted* 
*'  Thefe  forms  are  adapted  to  ordinary  occafior-s  ; 
"  and,  therefore,  perfons  who  are  nurtured  in  office, 
*'  do  admirably  well,  as  long  as  things  go  on  in  their 
*'  common  order  ;  but  when  the  high  roads  are  bro- 
*'  ken  up,  and  the  waters  out,  when  a  new  and 
*'  troubled  fcene  is  opened,  and  the  file  affords  no 
*'  precedent,  then  it  is,  that  a  greater  knowledge  of 
*'  mankind,  and  a  far  more  extenfive  comprehenfion 
"  of  things,  is  requifite,  than  ever  office  gave,  or  than 
*'  office  can  ever  give." 

Nor  is  it  in  new  combinations  of  circumftances 
alone,  that  general  principles  affift  us  in  the  conduct 
of  affairs  ;  they  render  the  application  of  our  pradli- 
cal  fkill  more  unerring,  and  more  perfed.  For,  as 
general  principles  limit  the  utility  of  practical  Ikill  to 
fupply  the  imperfections  of  theory,  they  diminifh 
the  number  of  cafes  in  which  this  fkill  is  to  be  em- 
ployed ;  and  thus,  at  once,  facilitate  its  improve- 
ment, wherever  it  is  requifite  j  and  leflen  the  errors 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  205 

to  which  It  is  liable,  by  contrafting  the  field  within 
which  it  is  poflible  to  commit  them. 

It  would  appear  then,  that  there  are  two  oppofite 
extreme .  into  which  men  are  apt  to  fall,  in  prepar- 
ing themfelves  for  the  duties  of  adive  life.  1  he 
one  arifes  from  habits  of  abftracElion  and  generalifa- 
tion  carried  to  an  excefs ;  the  other  from  a  minute, 
an  exclufive,  and  an  unenlightened  attention  to  the 
objects  and  events  which  happen  to  fall  under  their 
actual  experience. 

In  a  perfect  fyftem  of  education,  care  fliould  be 
taken  to  guard  againft  both  extremes,  and  to  unite 
habits  of  abftradlion  with  habits  of  bufinefs,  in  fuch 
a  manner  as  to  enable  men  to  confider  things,  either 
in  general,  or  in  derail,  as  the  occafion  may  require. 
Whichever  of  thefe  habits  may  happen  to  gain  an 
undue  afcendant  over  the  mind,  it  will  neceffarily 
produce  a  character  limited  in  its  powers,  and  fitted 
only  for  particular  exertions.  Hence  fome  of  the 
apparent  inconfiftencies  which  we  may  frequently 
remark  in  the  intellectual  capacities  of  the  fame  per- 
fon.  One  man,  from  an  early  indulgence  in  ab- 
ftra6t  fpeculation,  pofT  ffes  a  knowledge  of  general 
principles,  and  a  talent  for  general  reafoning,  united 
with  a  fluency  and  eloquence  in  the  ufe  of  general 
terms,  which  feem,  to  the  vulgar,  to  announce  abili- 
ties fitted  for  any  given  ficuation  in  life :  while,  in 
the  conduct  of  the  fimpleft  afiliirs,  he  exhibits  every 
mark  of  irrefolution,  and  incapacity.  Another  not 
only  a.ts  with  propriety,  and  fkill,  in  circumftances 
which  require  a  minute  attention  to  details,  but  pof- 
felT^s  an  acutenefs  of  reafoning,  and  a  facility  of  ex- 
preflion  on  all  fubjects,  in  which  nothing  but  what 
is  particular  is  involved  ;  while,  on  general  topics, 
he  is  perfectly  unable  either  to  reafon,  or  to  judge. 
It  is  this  lalt  turn  of  mind,  which  I  think  we  have, 
in  moft  inftances,  in  view,  when  we  fpeak  of  good 
fenfe,  Or  common  fenfe,  in  oppofition  to  icience  and 


206  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

philofophy.  Both  philofophy  and  good  fenfe  imply 
the  exercife  of  our  reafoning  powers  ;  and  they  dif- 
fer from  each  other  only,  according  as  thele  powers 
are  applied  to  particulars  or  to  generals.  It  is  on 
good  ienfe  (in  tlie  acceptation  in  which  1  have  now 
explained  the  tern))  that  the  fuccefs  of  men  in  the 
inlerior  walks  of  life  chiefly  depends  ;  but,  that  it 
does  not  always  indicate  a  capacity  for  abftracl  fci- 
ence,  or  for  general  fpeculation,  or  for  able  condud 
in  fituations  which  require  comprehenfive  views,  is 
matter  even  of  vulgar  remark. 

Althofigh,  however,  each  of  thefe  defers  has  a 
tendency  to  limit  the  utility  of  the  individuals  in 
whom  it  is  to  be  found,  to  certain  ftations  in  focie- 
ty  ;  no  comparifon  can  be  made,  in  point  of  origin- 
al value,  between  the  intelled:ual  capacities  of  the 
two  clalTes  of  men  to  which  they  charadleriflical- 
ly  belong.  The  one  is  the  defect  of  a  vigorous,  an 
ambitious,  and  a  comprehenfive  genius,  improperly 
directed  ;  the  other,  of  an  underftanding,  minute 
and  circumfcribed  in  its  views,  timid  in  its  exertions, 
and  formed  for  fervile  imitation.  Nor  is  the  for- 
mer Refect,  (hovi^ever  difficult  it  may  be  to  remove 
it  when  confirmed  by  long  habit,)  by  any  means  fo 
incurable  as  the  latter ;  for  it  arifes,  not  from  ori- 
ginal conftitution,  but  from  fome  fault  in  early 
education  ;  while  every  tendency  to  the  oppofite  ex- 
treme is  more  or  lefs  charad:eriftical  of  a  mind,  ufe- 
ful,  indeed,  in  a  high  degree,  when  confined  to  its 
proper  fphere,  but  deftined,  by  the  hand  that  form- 
ed it,  to  borrow  its  lights  from  another. 

As  an  additional  proof  of  the  natural  fuperiority 
which  men  of  general  views  poflefs  over  the  com- 
mon drudges  in  bufinefs,  it  may  be  farther  obferved, 
that  the  habits  of  inattention  incident  to  the  former, 
arife  in  part  from  the  little  interefi:  which  they  take 
in  particular  objeds  and  particular  occurrences,  and 
are  not  wholly  to  be  afcribed  to  an  incapacity  of  at- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  20? 

tention.  When  the  mind  has  been  long  acaiftora- 
ed  to  the  confideration  of  claffes  of  objects  and  of 
comprehenfive  theorems,  it  cannot,  without  fome 
degree  of  effort,  defcend  to  that  humble  walk  ot  ex- 
perience, or  of  ad:ion,  in  which  the  nieaneft  of 
mankind  are  on  a  level  with  the  greateft.  In  im- 
portant iituations,  accordingly,  men  of  the  moft 
general  views,  are  found  not  to  be  ini^erior  to  the 
vulgar  in  their  attention  to  details  ;  becaufe  the  ob- 
jedls  and  occurrences  which  fuch  fituations  prefent, 
roufe  their  pa  (lions,  and  intereft  their  curiofity,from 
the  magnitude  of  the  confequences  to  which  they 
fead. 

When  theoretical  knowledge  and  practical  Ikili 
are  happily  combined  in  the  fame  perfon,  the  intel- 
le^rual  power  of  man  appears  in  its  full  perfection  ; 
and  fits  him  equally  to  conduct,  with  a  mafterly 
hand,  the  details  of  ordinary  bufinefs,  and  to  con- 
tend fuccefsfully  with  the  untried  difficulties  of  new 
and  hazardous  fituations.  In  conducing  the  for- 
mer, mere  experience  may  frequently  be  a  fufficient 
guide,  but  experience  and  fpeculation  muft  be  com- 
bined together  to  prepare  us  for  the  latter.  "  Ex- 
"  pert  men,"  fays  Lord  Bacon,  "  can  execute  and 
"  judge  of  particulars  one  by  one ;  but  the  general 
"  counfels,  and  the  plots,  and  the  marfhalling  of  af- 
"  fairs,  come  bell  from  thofe  that  are  learned." 


SECTION  VIII. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Subjed. — life  and  Abufj  of  gen- 
eral Principles  /'«  Politics,* 

THE  foregoing  remarks,  on  the  dangers  to  be 
apprehended  from  a  rafli  application  of  general  prin- 

*  The  events  which  have  happened  since  the  publication  of  the 
former  edition  of  this  volume  in  1792,  naight  hiive  enabled  me  \f* 


208  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ciples,  hold  equally  with  refpe^l  to  raoft  of  the  prac- 
tical arts.  Among  thefe,  however,  there  is  one  of 
far  fuperior  dignity  to  the  reft ;  which,  partly  on 
account  of  its  importance,  and  partly  on  account  of 
fome  peculiarities  in  its  nature,  feems  to  be  entitled 
to  a  more  particular  confideration.  The  art  1  allude 
to,  is  that  of  Legillation  ;  an  art  which  differs  from 
all  others  in  fome  very  eil'ential  refpecls,  and  to 
which,  the  reafonings  in  the  laft  Section  muft  be  ap- 
plied with  many  reftriclions. 

Before  proceeding  farther,  it  is  neccffary  for  me 
to  premife,  that  it  is  chiefly  in  compliance  with 
common  language  and  common  prejudices,  that  I 
am  fometimes  led,  in  the  following  obiervations,  to 
contraft  theory  with  experience.  In  the  proper 
fenfe  of  the  word  Theory,  it  is  fo  far  from  {landing 
in  oppofition  to  experience,  that  it  imphes  a  knowl- 
edge of  principles,  of  which  the  moll  extenfive  ex- 
perience alone  could  put  us  in  pofTeflion.  Prior  to 
the  time  of  Lord  Bacon,  indeed,  an  acquaintance 
with  facls  was  not  confidered  as  effential  to  the  form- 
ation of  theories  ;  and  from  thefe  ages,  has  defcen- 
dedto  us,  an  indifcriminate  prejudice  againfl  gener- 
al principles,  even  in  thofe  cafes  in  which  they  have 
been  fairly  obtained  in  the  way  of  induction. 

confirm  many  of  the  observations  in  this  Section,  by  an  appeal  to 
facts  stiU  fresh  in  the  reco!l<?ction  of  my  Readers  ;  and  in  one  or 
two  instances  by  slight  verbal  corrections,  to  guard  against  the 
possibility  of  uncandid  misinterpretation  :  but,  for  various  reasons, 
which  it  is  unnecessary  to  state  at  poescnt,  I  feel  it  to  be  a  duty 
which  I  owe  to  myself,  to  send  the  whole  discussion  again  to  the 
press  in  its  original  form.  That  the  doctrine  it  inculcates  is  fa- 
vorable to  the  good  order  and  tranquility  of  society,  cannot  be  dis- 
puted ;  ar^d  as  far  as  I  myself  am  personally  interested,  I  have  no 
wish  to  vitiate  the  record  which  it  exhibits  of  my  opinions. 

On  some  pomts  which  are  touched  upon  very  slightly  here,  I 
have  explained  myself  more  fully,  in  the  fourth  Section  of  my  Bi- 
ographical Account  of  Mr.  SmHh,  read  before  the  Royal  Society  of 
Edinburgh  in  1793,  and  published  in  the  thifd  Volume  of  their 
Transactions. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  209 

But  not  to  difpute  about  words  :  there  are  plain- 
ly two  fets  of  political  reafoners  ;  one  of  which  con- 
fider  the  actual  inftirutions  of  mankind  as  the  only 
fafe  foundation  for  our  conclulions,  and  think  every 
plan  of  legiflation  chimerical,  which  is  not  copied 
from  one  which  has  already  been  realifed  ;  while 
the  other  apprehend  that,  in  many  cafes,  we  may 
reafon  fafely  a  priori  from  the  known  principles  of 
human  nature,  combined  with  the  particular  cir- 
cumftances  of  the  times.  The  former  are  common- 
ly underftood  as  contending  for  experience  in  oppo- 
fition  to  theory  ;  the  latter  are  accufed  of  trufting 
to  theory  unfupported  by  experience  :  but  it  ought 
to  be  remembered,  that  the  political  theorift,  if  he 
proceeds  cautioufly  and  philofophically,  founds  his 
conclufions  ultimately  on  experience,  no  lefs  than 
the  political  empiric  ; — as  the  aftronomer,  who  pre- 
dicts an  eclipfe  from  his  knowledge  of  the  principles 
of  the  fcience,  refts  his  expedation  of  the  event  on 
fads  which  have  been  previoufly  afcertained  by  ob- 
fervation,  no  lefs  than  if  he  inferred  it,  without  any 
reafoning,  from  his  knowledge  of  a  cycle. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  certain  degree  of  practical  jQ?:ill 
which  habits  of  bufinefs  alone  can  give,  and  without 
which  the  moft  enlightened  politician  muft  always 
appear  to  difadvantage  when  he  attempts  to  carry  his 
plans  into  execution.  And  as  this  fkill  is  often  fin 
confequence  of  the  ambiguity  of  language)  denoted 
by  the  word  Experience  ;  while  it  is  feldom  poiTeiTed 
by  thofe  men,  who  have  moft  carefully  ftudied  the 
theory  of  legiflation  ;  it  has  been  very  generally 
concluded,  that  politics  is  merely  a  matter  of  rout- 
ine, in  which  philofophy  is  rather  an  obftacle  to  fuc- 
cefs.  The  ftatefman  who  has  been  formed  among 
official  details,  is  compared  to  the  pra<^ical  engineer  \ 
the  fpeculative  legiflator,  to  the  theoretical  mechan- 
ician who  has  pafled  his  life  among  books  and  dia- 
grams. — In  order  to  afcertain  how  far  this  opinion 
Cc 


210  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

is  juft,  it  may  be  of  ufe  to  compare  the  art  of  leg- 
ill  ition  with  thofe  pradical  applications  of  mechan- 
ical principles^  by  which  the  oppofers  of  political 
theories  have  fo  often  endeavored  to  illullrate  their 
reafonings. 

I.  In  the  firft  place,  then,  it  may  be  remarkedjthat 
the  errors  to  which  we  are  liable,  in  the  ufe  of  gen- 
eral mechanical  principles,  are  owing,  in  moft  inftan^ 
ces,  to  the  effedl  which  habits  of  abftraction  are  apt 
to  have,  in  withdrawing  the  attention  from  thofe 
applications  of  our  knowledge,  by  which  alone  we 
can  learn  to  correct  the  imperfections  of  theory. — 
Such  errors,  therefore,  are,  in  a  peculiar  degree,  in- 
cident to  men  who  have  been  led  by  natural  tafte,or 
by  early  habits,  to  prefer  the  fpeculations  of  the 
clofet,  to  the  buftle  of  adive  life,  and  to  the  fatigue  of 
nvinute  and  circumftantial  obfervation. 

In  politics,  too,  one  fpecies  of  principles  is  often 
misapplied  from  an  inattention  to  circumftances  j 
thofe  which  are  deduced  from  a  few  examples  of  par- 
ticular governments,  and  which  are  occalionally  quo- 
ted as  univerfal  political  axioms,  which  every  wife 
legillator  ought  to  affume  as  the  ground-work  of 
his  reafonings.  But  this  abufe  of  general  princi- 
ples (hould  by  no  means  be  afcribed,  like  the  abfur- 
dities  of  the  fpeculative  mechanician,  to  over-refine- 
ment,  and  the  love  of  theory  ;  for  it  arifes  from 
weakneiTes,  which  philofophy  alone  can  remedy  ; 
an  unenlightened  veneration  for  maxims  which  are 
fuppofed  to  have  the  fanction  of  time  in  their  favor, 
and  a  paflive  acquiefcence  in  received  opinion s. 

There  is  another  clafs  of  principles,  from  which 
political  concluiions  have  fometimes  been  deduced  j 
and  which,  notwithftandiiig  the  common  prejudice 
againil  them,  are  a  much  lurer  foundation  for  our 
reafonings  :  I  allude,  at  prefent,  to  thofe  principles 
which  we  obtain  from  an  examination  of  the  human 
conltitution,  aad  of  the  general  laws  which  regulate 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  211 

the  courfe  of  human  aiFairs  ;  principles,  which  are 
certainly  the  refult  of  a  much  more  extenfive  induc- 
tion, than  any  of  the  inferences  that  can  be  drawn 
from  the  hiftory  of  a6tua}  eftablifhments. 

In  applying,  indeed,  fuch  principles  to  pradice,  it 
is  neceffary  (as  well  as  in  mechanics)  to  pay  attention 
to  the  peculiarities  of  the  cafe  ;  but  it  is  by  no 
means  neceffary  to  pay  the  fame  fcrupulous  atten- 
tion to  minute  circumftances,  which  is  effential  in 
the  mechanical  arts,  or  in  the  management  of  private 
bufinefs.  There  is  even  a  danger  of  dwelling  too 
much  on  details,  and  of  rendering  the  mind  incapa- 
ble of  thofe  abftract  and  comprehenfive  views  of  hu- 
man affairs,  which  can  alone  furnifh  the  ftatefman 
with  fixed  and  certain  maxims  for  the  regulation 
of  his  conduct.  "  When  a  man,  (fays  Mr.  Hume) 
"  deliberates  concerning  his  conduct  in  ^rny  pariku' 
"  lar  affair,  and  forms  fchemes  in  politics,trade,oecon- 
''  omy,  or  any  bufinefs  in  life,  he  never  ought  to 
<*  draw  his  arguments  too  fine,  or  connect  too  long 
"  a  chain  of  confequences  together.  Something  is 
"  fure  to  happen,  that  will  difconcert  his  reafoning, 
*'  and  produce  an  event  different  from  what  he  ex- 
"  pe6ted.  But  when  we  reafon  upon  general  fub- 
"  jeds,  one  may  juftly  afiirm,  that  our  fpeculations 
"  can  fcarce  ever  be  too  fine,  provided  they  are  juft ; 
"  and  that  the  difference  betwixt  a  common  man 
"  and  a  man  of  geniils,  is  chiefly  feen  in  the  fhallow- 
''  nefs  or  depth  of  the  principles  upon  which  they 
*'  proceed. — 'Ti  3  certain  that  general  principles,  how- 
"  ever  intricate  they  may  feem,  mull  always,  if  they 
"  are  juft  and  found,  prevail  in  the  general  courfe  of 
'*  things,  though  they  may  fail  in  particular  cafes  ; 
*'  and  it  is  the  chief  bufinefs  of  philofophers  to  re- 
**  gard  the  general  courfe  of  things.  I  may  add, 
"  that  it  is  alfo  the  chief  bufinefs  oi  politicians  ;  ef- 
"  pecially  in  the  domefl:ic  governinent  of  the  ftate, 
^  where  the  public  good,  which  is,  or  ought  to  be. 


512  ELEMENTS  OV  TH3  PHILOSOPHY 

"  their  obje(^,  depends  on  the  concurrence  of  amul- 
*'  titude  of  cafes,  not,  as  in  foreign  politics,  upon  ac- 
"  cidents,  and  chances,  and  the  caprices  of  a  few  per- 
«  fons."* 

11.  The  difficulties  which,  in  the  ir>echanical  arts, 
limit  the  application  of  general  principles,  remain  in- 
variably the  fame  from  age  to  age  :  and  whatever 
obfervations  we  have  made  on  them  in  the  ccmrfe  of 
our  paft  experience,  lay  a  fure  foundation  for  future 
practical  ikill  ;  and  fupply,  in  fo  far  as  they  reach, 
the  defecfts  of  our  theories.  In  the  art  of  govern- 
ment, however,  the  pradical  difficulties  whicTi  occur 
are  of  a  very  different  nature.  They  do  not  prefent 
to  the  ftatefman,  the  fame  fteady  fubjecl  of  examin- 
ation, which  the  effeds  of  fridion  do  to  the  engi- 
neer.  They  arife  chiefly  from  the  paffions  and  o- 
pinions  of  men,  which  are  in  a  (late  of  perpetual 
change ;  and,  therefore,  the  addrefs  which  is  necef- 
fary  to  overcome  them,  depends  lefs  on  the  accura- 
cy of  our  obfervations  with  relpeft  to  the  paft,  than 
on  the  fagacity  of  our  conjectures  with  refpect  to 
the  future.  In  the  prefent  age,  more  particularly, 
when  the  rapid  communication,  and  the  univerfal 
diffufion  of  knowledge,  by  means  of  the  prefs,  ren- 
der the  lituation  of  political  focieties  effentially  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  ever  was  formerly,  and  fecure  in- 
fallibly^ againft  every  accident,  the  progrefs  of  hu- 
man reafon  ;  we  may  venture  to  predid,  that  they 
are  to  be  the  moft  fuccefsful  ftatefmen,  who,  paying 
all  due  regard  to  paft  experience,  fearch  for  the  rules 
of  their  conduct  chiefly  in  the  peculiar  circumftan- 
ces  of  their  own  times,  and  in  an  enlightened  an- 
ticipation of  the  future  hiftory  of  mankind. 

Ill  In  the  mechanical  arts,  if,  at  any  time  we  are 
at  a  lofs  about  the  certainty  of  a  particular  fact,  we 
have  it  always  in  our  power  to  bring  it  to  the  teft  of 

*  Political  Discourses^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  213 

experiment.  But  it  is  very  feldom  that  we  can  ob- 
tain in  this  way  any  ufeful  conclufion  in  politics  : 
not  only  becaufe  it  is  difficult  to  find  two  cales  in 
which  the  combinations  of  circumftances  are  precife- 
ly  the  fame,  but  becaufe  our  acquaintance  with  the 
political  experience  of  mankind  is  much  more  im- 
perfecl  than  is  commonly  imagined.  By  far  the 
greater  part  of  what  is  called  matter  of  fact  in  poli- 
tics, is  nothing  elfe  than  theory  ;  and,  very  frequent- 
ly,  in  this  fcience,  when  we  think  we  are  oppofing 
experience  to  fpeculation,  we  are  only  oppofing  one 
theory  to  another. 

To  be  fatisfied  with  the  truth  of  this  obfervation, 
it  is  almoft  fufficient  to  recoiled  how  extremely  dif- 
ficult it  is  to  convey,  by  a  general  defcription,  a  juft 
idea  of  the  actual  ftate  of  any  government.  That 
every  fuch  defcription  muft  neceifarily  be  more  or 
lefs  theoretical,  will  appear  from  the  following  re» 
marks. 

1.  Of  the  governments  which  have  hitherto  ap- 
peared in  the  hiftory  of  mankind,  few  or  none  have 
taken  their  rife  from  political  wifdom,  but  have  been 
the  gradual  refult  of  time  and  experience,  of  circum- 
ftances and  emergencies.  In  procefs  of  time,  indeed, 
every  government  acquires  a  fyfl:ematical  appear- 
ance :  for  although  its  different  parts  arofe  from  cir- 
cumftances which  may  be  regarded  as  accidental  and 
irregular  ;  yet  there  muft  exift,  among  thefe  parts, 
a  certain  degree  of  confiftency  and  analogy.  Where- 
ever  a  government  has  exifted  for  ages,  and  men 
have  enjoyed  tranquillity  under  it,  it  is  a  proof  that 
its  principles  are  not  eifentially  at  variance  with 
each  other.  Every  new  inftitution  which  was  intro- 
duced, muft  have  had  a  certain  rererence'to  the  laws 
and  ufagcs  exifting  before,  otherwife  it  could  not 
have  been  permanent  in  its  operation.  If  any  one, 
contrary  to  the  fpirit  of  the  reft,  fhould  have  occa- 
fionally  mingled  with  them,  it  muft  foon  have  fallen 


S14  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

inty  defuetude  and  oblivion  ;  and  thofe  alone  would 
remain,  which  accorded  in  their  general  tendency, 
*'  Quas  ufu  obtinuere,*'  fays  Lord  Bacon,  "  li  non 
*'  bona,  at  faltem  apta  inter  fe  funt." 

The  neceflity  of  ftudying  particular  conftitutions 
of  government,  by  the  help  of  fyftematical  defcrip- 
tions  of  them,(fuch  defcriptions,  for  example,  as  are 
given  of  that  of  England  by  Montefquieu  and  Black- 
Hone,)  arifes  from  the  fame  circumftances,  which 
render  it  expedient,  in  moil  inftances,  to  ftudy  par- 
ticular languages,  by  conlulting  the  writings  of 
grammarians.  In  both  cafes,  the  knowledge  we 
wifli  to  acquire,  comprehends  an  infinite  number  of 
particulars,  the  confideration  of  which,  in  detail, 
would  diftracfl  the  attention,  and  overload  the  mem- 
ory. The  fyftematical  defcriptions  of  politicians, 
like  the  general  rules  of  grammarians,  are  in  a  high 
degree  ufeful,  for  arranging,  and  Amplifying,  the  ob- 
jeds  of  our  ftudy  ;  but  in  both  cafes,  we  muft  re- 
member, that  the  knowledge  we  acquire  in  this  man- 
ner, is  to  be  received  with  great  limitations,  and 
that  it  is  no  more  pollible  to  convey,  in  a  fyftemati- 
cal form,  a  juft  and  complete  idea  of  a  particular  go- 
vernment, than  it  is  to  teach  a  language  completely 
by  means  of  general  rules,  without  any  practical  af- 
iiftance  from  reading  or  converfation. 

2.  The  nature  and  fpirit  of  a  government,  as  it 
is  actually  exertifed  at  a  particular  period,  cannot 
always  be  colled:ed  ;  perhaps  it  can  feldom  be  col- 
leded  from  an  examination  of  written  laws,  or  of 
the  eftablifhed  forms  of  a  conftitution.  Thefe  may 
continue  the  fame  for  a  long  courfe  of  ages,  while 
the  government  may  be  modified  in  its  exercife,  to 
a  great  extent,  by  gradual  and  undefcribable  altera- 
tions in  the  ideas,  manners,  and  character,  of  the 
people  ;  or  by  a  change  in  the  relations  which  dif- 
ferent orders  of  the  community  bear  to  each  other. 
In  every  country  whatever,  befide  the  eftablilhed 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  215 

laws,  the  political  flate  of  the  people  is  affe<n:ed  by  an 
infinite-variety  of  circumftances,  of  which  no  words 
can  convey  a  conception,  and  which  are  to  be  colledl- 
ed  only  from  a<5tual  obfervation.  Even  in  this  way, 
it  is  not  eafy  for  a  perfon  who  has  received  his  edu- 
cation in  one  country,  to  ftudy  the  government  of 
another  ^  on  account  of  the  difficulty  which  he  muft 
neceffarily  experience,  in  entering  into  the  affocia- 
tions  which  influence  the  mind  under  a  different 
fyftem  of  manners,  and  in  afcertaining  (efpecially 
upon  political  fubjedls)  the  complex  ideas  conveyed 
by  a  foreign  language. 

In  confequence  of  the  caufes  which  have  now  been 
mentioned,  it  lometimes  happens,  that  there  are  ef- 
fential  circumftances  in  the  adual  ftate  of  a  govern- 
ment, about  which  the  conftitutional  laws  are  not 
only  filent,  but  which  are  diredly  contrary  to  all  the 
written  laws,  and  to  the  fpirit  of  the  conlUtution  as 
delineated  by  theoretical  writers. 

IV.  The  art  of  government  differs  from  the  me- 
chanical arts  in  this,  that,  in  the  former,  it  is  much 
more  difficult  to  refer  effects  to  their  caufes,  than  in 
the  latter  ;  and,  of  confequence,  it  rarely  happens, 
even  when  we  have  an  opportunity  of  feeing  a  polit- 
ical experiment  made,  that  we  can  draw  from  it  any 
certain  inference,  with  refped  tothejuftnefs  of  the 
principles  by  which  it  was  fuggefted.  In  thofe  com- 
plicated machines,  to  which  the  flruclure  of  civil  fo- 
ciety  has  been  frequently  compared,  as  all  the  differ- 
ent parts  of  which  they  are  compofed  are  fubjecled 
to  phyfical  laws,  the  errors  of  the  artift  muft  necefla- 
rily  become  apparent  in  the  laft  refult  ;  but  in  the 
political  fyftem,  as  well  as  in  the  animal  body,  where 
the  general  conftitution  is  found  and  healthy,  there 
is  a  fort  of  vis  medicatrix,  which  is  fufficient  for  the 
cure  of  partial  diforders  ;  and  in  the  one  cafe,  as  well 
as  in  the  other,  the  errors  of  human  art  are  frequent- 
ly correded  and  concealed  by  the  wifdom  of  nature. 


216  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Among  the  many  falfe  eftimates  which  we  daily 
make  of  human  ability,  there  is  perhaps  none  more 
groundlels  than  the  exaggerated  conceptions  we  are 
apt  to  form  of  that  fpecies  of  political  wifdom  which  is 
fuppofed  to  be  the  fruit  of  long  experience  and  of 
profelTional  habits.  "  Go  ;"  (faid  the  chancellor 
Oxeniliern  to  his  fon,  when  he  was  fending  him  to 
a  congrefs  of  ambafHidors,  and  when  the  young  man 
was  expreffing  his  diffidence  of  his  own  abilities  for 
fuch  an  employment ;)  "  Go,  and  fee  with  your 
*'  own  eyes,  Ouam  parva  fapieniia  regitur  mundus  /" 
The  truth  is,  (however  paradoxical  the  remark  may 
appear  at  firft  view,)  that  the  fpeculative  errors  of 
ftatefmen  are  frequently  lefs  fenfible  in  their  efFecls, 
and,  of  confequence,  more  likely  to  efcape  without 
detection,  than  thole  of  individuals  who  occupy  in- 
ferior ftations  in  fociety.  The  efFecls  of  mifcondudt 
in  private  life,  are  e^fily  traced  to  their  proper 
fource,  and  therefore  the  world  is  feldom  far  wrong 
in  the  judgments  which  it  forms  of  the  prudence  or 
of  the  imprudence  of  private  characters.  But  in 
confidering  the  affairs  of  a  great  nation,  it  is  fo  diffi- 
cult to  trace  events  to  their  proper  caufes,  and  to 
diftinguifti  the  effeds  of  political  wifdom,  from  thofe 
whch  are  the  natural  refult  of  the  fituation  of  the 
people,  that  it  is  fcarcely  poffible,  excepting  in  the 
cafe  of  a  very  long  adminiflration,  to  appreciate  the 
talents  of  a  ttatefman  from  the  fuccefs  or  the  failure 
of  his  meafures.  In  every  fociety,  too,  which,  in 
confequence  of  the  general  fpirit  of  its  government, 
enjoys  the  bleffings  of  tranquillity  and  liberty,  a  great 
part  of  the  political  order  which  we  are  apt  to  afcribe 
to  legiflative  fagacity,  is  the  natural  refult  of  the 
felfifh  purfuits  of  individuals  ;  nay,  in  every  fuch 
fociety,  (as  I  already  hinted,)  the  natural  tendency 
to  improvement  is  lo  ftrong,  as  to  overcome  mr-ny 
powerful  obftacles,  which  the  imperfection  of  hu- 
man inititutions  oppofes  to  its  progrefs. 


OF  THE  I-rUMAN  MIND..  21? 

"  From  thefe  remarks,  it  feems  to  follow,  that,  altho' 
in  the  mechanical  aits,  the  errors  of  theory  may 
freqtiently  be  corrected  by  repeated  trials,  without 
having  recourfe  to  general  principles  ;  yet,  in  the 
machine  of  government,  there  is  fo  great  a  variety 
of  powers  at  work,  befide  the  influence  of  the  ftates- 
man,  that  it  is  vain  to  expect  the  art  of  legiilation 
ftiould  be  carried  to  its  greatell  pofiible  perfedion 
by  experience  alone. 

Still,  however,  it  may  be  faid,  that  in  the  mofi: 
imperfect  governments  of  modern  Europe,  we  have 
an  experimental  proof,  that  they  fecure,  to  a  very 
great  degree,  the  principal  objects  of  the  focial  union. 
Why  hazard  thefe  certain  advantag  s,  for  the  un- 
certain effedts  of  changes,  fuggefted  by  mere  theory  ; 
and  not  reft  fati^>fied  with  a  meafure  of  political  hap- 
pinefs,  which  appears,  from  the  hiftory  of  the  world, 
to  be  greater  than  has  commonly  fallen  to  the  lot 
of  nations  ? 

With  thofe  who  would  carry  their  zeal  againft  re- 
formation fo  far,  it  is  in^poflible  to  argue  ;  and  it 
only  remains  for  us  to  regret,  that  the  number  of 
fuch  reafoners  has,  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  been  fo 
great,  and  their  influence  on  human  affairs  fo  exten- 
five.  j:: 

"  There  are  fome  men,'*  (fays  Dr.  Johnfon,)  of 
"  narrow  views,  and  grovelling  conceptions,  who, 
"  without  the  inftigation  of  perfonal  malice,  treat 
*'  every  new  attempt  as  wild  and  chimerical  4  and 
"  look  upon  every  endeavor  to  depart  from  the 
"  beaten  traft,  as  the  rafli  effort  of  a  warm  imagin- 
"  ation,  or  the  glittering  fpeculation  of  an  exalted 
"  mind,  that  may  pleafe  and  dazzle  for  a  time,  but 
"  can  produce  no  real  or  lafting  advantage. 

"  Thefe  men  value  themfelves  upon  a  perpetual 

"  fcepticifm  ;  upon  beUeving  nothing  bur  their  own 

*'  fenfes ;  upon  calling  for  demonftration   where  it 

**  cannot  pofTibly   be  obtained  ;    and,   iometimes, 

Dd 


215  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  upon  holding  out  againfl  it  when  it  is  laid  before 
*'  them  ;  upon  inventing  arguments  againft  the  fuc- 
"  cefs  of  any  new  undertaking  ;  and,  where  argu- 
"  ments  cannot  be  found,  upon  treating  it  with  con- 
*''  tempt  and  ridicule. 

"  Such  have  been  the  mofl  formidable  enemies  of 
"  the  great  benefactors  of  the  world  ;  for  their  no- 
"^  tions  and  discourfe  are  fo  agreeable  to  the  lazy, 
"  the  envious,  and  the  timorous,  that  they  feldom 
"  fail  oi  becoming  popular,  and  directing  the  opin- 
"  ions  of  mankind."* 

With  refpe6i:  to  this  fceptical  dispofition,  as  appli- 
cable to  the  prefent  ftate  of  fociety,  it  is  of  impor- 
tance to  add,  that,  in  every  government,  the  ftabili- 
ty  and  the  influence  of  eftabliftied  authority,  muft 
depend  on  the  coincidence  between  its  meafures  and 
the  tide  of  public  opinion  ;  and  that,  in  modern  Eu- 
rope, in  confequence  of  the  invention  of  printing, 
and  the  liberty  of  the  prefs,  public  opinion  has  ac- 
quired an  afcendant  in  human  affairs,  which  it  never 
poffeffed  in  thofe  ftates  of  antiquity  from  which  mod 
of  our  political  examples  are  drawn.  The  danger, 
indeed,  of  fudden  and  rafli  innovations  cannot  be  too 
ftrongly  inculcated  ;  and  the  views  of  thofe  men  who 
are  forward  to  promote  them,  cannot  be  reprobated 
with  too  great  feverity.  But  it  is  poflible  alfo  to  fall 
into  the  oppofite  extreme  ;  and  to  bring  upon  focie- 
ty the  very  evils  we  are  anxious  to  prevent,  by  an 
obftinate  oppofition  to  thofe  gradual  and  neceiTary 
reformations  which  the  genius  of  the  times  demands. 
The  violent  revolutions  which,  at  different  periods, 
have  convulfed  modern  Europe,  have  arifen,  not 
from  afpirit  of  innovation  in  fovereigns  and  flates- 
men  ;  but  from  their  bigotted  attachment  to  antiqua- 
ted forms,  and  to  principles  borrowed  from  lels  en- 
lihtened  ages.     It  is  this  reverence  for  abufes  which 

*  Life  of  Drake,  by  Dr.  Johksok. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  21^ 

liave  been  fanclioned  by  time,  accompanied  with  an 
inattention  to  the  progrefs  of  public  opinion,  which 
has,  in  moft  inftances,  blinded  the  rulers  of  manking, 
till  government  has  loft  all  its  efficiency  ;  and  till  the 
rage  of  innovation  has  become  too  general  and  too 
violent,  to  be  fatislied  wih  changes,  which,  if  propof- 
ed  at  an  earlier  period,  would  have  united,  in  the 
fupport  of  eftablifhed  inftitutions,  every  friend  to 
order,  and  to  the  profperity  of  his  country. 

Thefe  obfervations  I  ftate  with  a  greater  confi- 
dence, that  thefubllanceof  them  is  contained  in  the 
following  aphorifms  of  Lord  Bacon  ;  a  philofopher 
who  (if  we  except,  perhaps,  the  late  Mr.  Turgot) 
feems,  more  than  any  other,  to  have  formed  enlight- 
ened views  with  refpedl  to  the  poffible  attainments 
of  mankind  ;  and  whofe  fame  cannot  fail  to  increafe 
as  the  world  grows  older,  by  being  attached,  not  to 
a  particular  fyftem  of  variable  opinions,  but  to  the 
general  and  infallible  progrefs  of  human  reafon, 

"  Quis  novator  tempus  imitatur,  quod  novationes 
*'  ita  inlinuat,  ut  fenfus  fallant  ? 

"  Novator  maximus  tempus  ;  quidni  igitur  tem- 
•'  pus  imitemur  ? 

"  Morofa  morum  retentio,  res  turbulenta  eft,3eque 
*'  ac  novitas. 

"  Cum  per  fe  res,  mutentur  in  deterius,  fi  confilio 
"in  melius  non  mutentur,  quis  tinis  erit  mali  ?" 

The  general  conclufion  to  which  thefe  obferva- 
tions lead,  is  fufficiently  obvious  ;  that  the  perfeclion 
of  political  wifdom  does  not  confift  in  an  indifcrimi- 
nate  zeal  againft  reforms,  but  in  a  gradu:il  ard  pru- 
dent accommodation  of  eftabliOied  inftitutions  to  the 
varying  opinions,  manners,  and  circumltances  of 
mankind.  In  the  actual  application,  however,  of 
this  principle,  many  difficulties  occur,  which  it  re- 
quires a  very  rare  combination  of  talents  to  fur- 
mount  :  more  particularly  in  the  prefent  age  ;  when 
the  prefs  has,  to  ib  wonderful  a  degree,  emancipated 


^20  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

human  reafon  from  the  tyranny  of  antient  prejudi- 
ces ;  and  has  roufed  a  fpirit  of  free  difcuflion,  unex- 
ampled in  the  hiftory  of  former  times. 

1  hat  this  fudden  change  in  the  ftate  of  the  world, 
fliould  be  accompanied  with  fome  tempcTary  difor- 
ders,  is  by  no  means  furprifing.  While  the  multi- 
tude continue  imperfectly  enlightened,  they  will  be 
occafionaliy  mifled  by  the  artifices  of  demagogues  ; 
and  even  good  men,  intoxicated  with  ideas  of  theo- 
retical perfection,  may  be  expected,  fon  etimes  to 
facrifice,  unintentionally,  the  tranquillity  of  their 
coremporaries,  to  an  over-ardent  zeal  for  the  g(  od 
of  pofterity.  Notwithllanding,  however,  thefe  evils, 
which  every  friend  to  hun^anity  muft  lament,  I. 
would  willingly  believe,  that  the  final  effects  refult- 
ing  from  this  fpirit  of  reformation,  cannot  fail  to  be 
favourable  to  human  happinefs  ;  and  there  are  fome 
peculiarities  in  the  prefent  condition  of  mankind, 
which  appear  to  me  to  juftify  more  fanguine  hopes 
upon  the  fubject,  than  it  would  have  been  reafona- 
ble  for  a  philofopher  to  indulge  at  any  former  period. 
An  attention  to  thefe  peculiarities  is  abfoiurely  ne- 
ceffary  to  enable  us  to  form  a  coiT»petent  judgment 
on  the  queilion  to  which  the  foregoing  obfervations 
relate  ;  and  it  leads  to  the  illuftration  of  a  doctrine  to 
which  I  have  frequently  referred  in  this  work  ;  the 
gradual  improvement  in  the  condition  of  thefpecies^ 
which  may  be  expected  from  the  progrefs  of  reafon 
and  the  diffufion  of  knowledge. 

Among  the  many  circumitances  favorable  to  hu- 
man happinefs  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  the  world,  the 
moft  important  perhaps,  is,  that  the  fame  events 
which  have  contributed  to  loofen  the  foundations  of 
the  ancient  fabrics  of  defpotifm,  have  made  it  prac- 
ticable in  a  much  greater  degree  than  it  ever  was 
formerly,  to  reduce  the  principles  of.legiflation  to  a 
fcience,  and  to  anticipate  the  probable  courfe  of  pop- 
ular opinions.     It  is  ealy  for  the  ftatefman  to  form 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  22) 

to  himfelf  adiftinct  and  fteady  idea  of  the  ultimate 
objects  at  which  a  wife  legillitor  oupjht  to  aim,  and 
to  fbrefee  that  modification  of  the  foci  il  order,  to 
which  human  affairs  have,  of  then^felves,  a  tendency 
to  approach  ;  and,  therefore,  his  praclical  fa,L>;  tcity 
and  addrefs  are  limited  to  the  c  ire  of  accompiifhing 
the  important  ends  which  he  has  in  view,  as  effv:ctu- 
ally  and  as  rapidly  as  is  confident  with  the  quct  of 
individuals,  and  with  the  rights  arifing  from  actual 
efl:abliihments. 

In  order  to  lay  a  folid  foundation  for  the  fcience 
of  politics,  the  firft  fi:ep  ought  to  be,  to  ^.fcertain  that 
form  of  fociety  which  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  na- 
ture and  to  juflice  ;  and  what  are  the  principles  of 
lei^illation  neceffary  for  maintaining  it.  Nor  is  the 
inquiry  fo  difficult  as  might  at  firft  be  apprehended  ; 
for  it  might  be  eafily  fhewn,  thai  the  greater  part  of 
the  political  diforders  which  exit!  among  mankind, 
do  not  arife  from  a  want  of  fdrefight  in  politicians, 
which  has  rendered  their  laws  too  general,  but  f rum 
their  having  trufted  too  little  to  the  operation  of 
thofe  fimple  inititutions  which  nature  and  juftice 
recommend  ;  and,  of  confequence,  that,  as  fociety  ad- 
vances to  its  perfection,  the  number  of  laws  may  be 
expected  to  diminilh,  initead  of  increafing,  and  the 
fcience  of  legillation  to  be  gradually  fiiijpiified. 

The  CEconomical  fyftem  which,  about  thirty  years 
ago,  employed  the  fpeculations  of  fome  ingenious 
men  in  France,  feems  to  me  to  have  been  the  firft  at- 
tempt to  afcertain  this  ideal  perfection  of  the  focial 
order  ;  an  J  the  light  which,  fince  that  period,  has 
been  thrown  on  the  fubje6t,  in  different  parts  of  Eu- 
rope, is  a  proof  of  what  the  human  mii^d  is  able  to 
accomplifh  in  fuch  inquiries,  when  it  jias  once  re- 
ceived a  proper  direction.  To  all  the  various  tenets 
of  theie  writers,  I  would,  by  no  means,  be  under- 
ftood  to  fubfcribe  ;  nor  do  I  confider  their  fylfem 
as  fo  perfect  in  every  different  part,  as  fome  of  its 


^2^  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

more  fanguine  admirers  have  reprefented  it  to  be. 
A  few  of  the  moft  important  principles  of  political 
^economy,  they  have  undoubtedly  eibibliftied  with 
demonftrative  evidence  ;  but  what  the  world  is 
chiefly  indebted  to  them  for,  is,  the  commencement 
which  they  have  given  to  a  new  branch  of  fcience, 
and  the  plan  of  inveftigation  which  they  have  ex- 
hibited to  their  fuccelTors.  A  fhort  account  of  what 
I  conceive  to  be  the  fcope  of  their  fpeculations,  will 
juliify  theie  remarks,  and  will  comprehend  every 
thing  w^hich  I  have  to  ofFer  at  prefent,  in  anfwer  to 
the  queftion  by  which  they  were  fuggelled.  Such 
an  account  I  attempt  with  the  greater  fatisfa£fion, 
that  the  leading  views  of  the  earlieft  and  moft  en- 
lightened patrons  of  the  ceconomical  fyftem  have,  in 
my  opinion,  been  not  more  mifreprefcnted  by  its  op- 
ponents, than  mifapprehended  by  fome  who  have 
adopted  its  concluhons,* 

In  the  firit  place,  then,  I  think  it  of  importance  to 
remark,  that  the  objecl  of  the  ceconomical  fyftem 
ought  by  no  means  to  be  confounded  (as  I  believe 
it  commonly  is  in  this  country)  with  that  of  the  U- 
topian  plans  of  government,  which  have,  at  different 
times,  been  offered  to  the  world  ;  and  which  have 
fo  often  excited  the  juft  ridicule  of  the  more  fober 
and  reafonable  inquirers.  Of  thefe  plans,  by  far  the 
greater  ilumber  proceed  on  the  fuppofition,  that 
the  focial  order  is  entirely  the  effocl  of  human  art ; 
and  that  wherever  this  order  is  imperted,  the  evil 
may  be  traced  to  fome  wMut  of  forefight  on  the  part 
of  the  legiflitor  ;  or  to  fome  inattention  of  the  ma- 
giftrate  to  the  compHcated  ftrudure  of  that  machine 
of  which  h^ '^regulates  the  movements.  The  pro- 
jects of  reform,  therefore,  which  fuch  plans  involve, 
are,  in  genefal,  well  entitled  to  all  the  ridicule  and 
contempt  they  have  met  with ;    inafmuch  as  they 

*  See  Note  [N.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  22S 

imply  an  arrogant  and  prefumptuous  belief  in  their 
authors,  of  the  fuperiority  of  their  own  political  fa- 
gacity,  to  the  accumulated  wifdom  of  former  ages. 
The  cafe  is  very  different  with  the  ceconomical  fyf- 
tem  ;  of  which  the  leading  views  (fo  far  as  I  am  able 
to  judge)  proceed  on  the  two  following  fuppofi- 
tions  :  Firft,  that  the  focial  order  is,  in  the  moll  ef- 
fential  refpects,  the  refult  of  the  wifdom  of  nature, 
and  not  of  human  contrivance ;  and,  therefore,  that 
the  proper  bufinefs  of  the  pohtician,  is  not  to  divide 
his  attention  among  all  the  different  parts  of  a  ma- 
chine, which  is  by  far  too  complicated  for  his  com- 
prehenfion  ;  but  by  proteding  the  rights  of  individ- 
uals, and  by  allowing  to  each,  as  complete  a  liberty 
as  is  compatible  with  the  perfed:  fecurity  of  the  rights 
of  his  fellow-citizens  ;  to  remove  every  obftacle 
which  the  prejudices  and  vices  of  men  have  oppof- 
ed  to  the  eftablifhment  of  that  order  which  fociety 
has  a  tendency  tg  afiume.  Secondly ;  that,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  progrefs  and  the  diffuiion  of  knowl- 
edge, thofe  prejudices,  on  a  Ikilful  management  of 
which,  all  the  old  fyftems  of  policy  proceeded,  muft 
gradually  difappear  ;  and,  confequently,  that  (what- 
ever may  be  his  prediledlion  for  ancient  ufages)  the 
inevitable  courfe  of  events  impofes  on  the  politician 
the  neceflity  of  forming  his  meafures  on  more  folid 
and  permanent  principles,  than  thofe  by  which  the 
w^orld  has  hitherto  been  governed.  Both  of  thefe 
fuppofitions  are  of  modern  origin.  The  former,  fo 
far  as  I  know,  was  firil  Hated  and  illuftrated  by  the 
French  CEconomifts.  The  latter  has  been  obviouily 
fuggefted  by  that  rapid  improvement  which  has  ac- 
tually taken  place  in  every  country  in  Europe  where 
the  prefs  has  enjoyed  a  moderate  degree  of  liberty. 

It  may  be  farther  remarked,  with  refpect  to  the 
greater  part  of  the  plans  propofed  by  Utopian  pro- 
jectors, that  they  proceed  on  the  fuppf)^ition  of  x 
miraculous  reformation  in  the  moral  character  of  a. 


224  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

people^  to  be  efledicd  by  fome  new  fyftem  of  educa- 
tion. All  fuch  plans  (as  Mr.  HuniC  has  judly  obfer- 
ved)  may  be  fafely  abandoned  as  imprad:icable  and 
vifionary.  But  this  objedion  does  not  app^y  to  the 
ceconomical  fyftern  ;  the  chief  expedieni  of  which, 
for  promoting  moral  improvement,  is  not  that  edu- 
cation which  depends  on  the  attention  and  care  of 
our  inflruclors  ;  but  an  education  which  necelTariiy 
refults  from  tlie  political  order  of  fociety.  "  How 
"  ineffeclual"  (faid  the  Roman  poet)  "  are  the  wif- 
"  eft  laws,  if  they  be  not  fupported  by  good  morals!" 
How  ineffeclual  ffay  the  CEconomifts)  are  all  our  ef- 
forts to  preferve  the  morals  of  a  people,  if  the  laws 
which  regulate  the  political  order,  doom  the  one  half 
of  mankind  to  indigence,  to  fraud,  to  fervility,  to 
ignorance,  tofuperftition  ;  and  the  other  half  to  be 
the  Haves  of  all  the  follies  and  vices  which  relult  from 
the  infolence  of  rank,  and  the  felfiilinefs  of  opu- 
lence ?  Suppofe  for  a  moment,  th»it  the  inordinate 
accumulation  of  wealth  in  the  hands  of  individuals, 
which  we  every  w^here  meet  with  in  modern  Eu- 
rope, w^ere  gradually  dimirifhcd  by  abolifhing  the 
law  of  entails,  and  by  eftabiifhing  a  perfecfl  freedom 
of  commerce  and  ot  induftrv  ;  it  is  almoft  felf  evi- 
dent, that  thib  fimple  alteration  in  the  order  of  loci- 
ety  ;  an  alteration  which  has  been  often  demonftra- 
ted  to  be  the  moft  effedual  and  the  moft  infallible 
meafure  for  promoting  the  wealth  and  population 
of  a  country  ;  would  contribute,  m.ore  than  all  the 
labours  of  moralifts,  to  fecure  the  virtue  and  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  all  the  claffes  of  mankind.  It  is  w'orthy 
too  of  remark,  that  fuch  a  plan  of  reformation  does 
not  require,  for  its  accomplifliment,  any  new^  and 
complicated  inftitutions ;  and  therefore  docs  not 
proceed  upon  any  exaggerated  conception  of  the  ef- 
ficacy of  human  policy.  On  the  contrary,  it  requires 
only  (like  moft  of  the  other  expedients  propoied  by 
this  fyftern)  the  gradual  abolition  of  thofe  arbitrary 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.    ^  2^5 

and  unjuft  arrangements,  by  which  the  order  of  na- 
ture is  difturbed. 

Another  miftaken  idea  concerning  the  ceconomi- 
cal  fyftem  is,  that  it  is  founded  entirely  upon  theory, 
and  unfupported  by  facts.  That  this  may  be  the 
cafe  with  refped:  to  fome  of  its  doctrines,  I  (hall  not 
difpute :  but,  in  general,  it  may  be  fafely  affirmed, 
that  they  reft  on  a  broader  baiis  ot  facls,  than  any- 
other  fpeculations  which  have  been  yet  offered  to 
the  world  ;  for  they  are  founded,  not  on  a  few  ex- 
amples collected  from  the  fmall  number  of  govern- 
ments of  which  we  poil'efs  an  accurate  know  ledge  ; 
but  on  thofe  laws  of  human  nature,  and  thofe  max- 
ims of  common  fenfe,  which  are  daily  verified  in  the 
intercourfe  of  private  life. 

Of  thofe  who  have  fpeculated  on  the  fubjedt  of  le- 
giflition,  by  far  the  greater  part  feem  to  have  con- 
fidered  it  as  a  fcience  fui  getieris ;  the  firft  principles 
of  which  can  be  obtained  in  no  other  way,  than  by 
an  examination  of  the  condu<5t  of  mankind  in  their 
political  capacity.     The  CEconomifts,  on  the  contra- 
ry, have  fearched  for  the  caufes  of  national  profperi- 
ty,  and  national  improvement,  in  thofe  arrange- 
ments, which  our  daily  obfervations  (hew  to  be  fa- 
vorable to  the  profperity  and  to  the  improvement 
of  individuals*     The  form'er  refemble  thole  philofo- 
phers  of  antiquity,  who,  affirming,  that  the  phenom- 
ena of  the  heavens  are  regulated  by  laws  pecuUar  to 
themfelvcs,  difcouraged  every  attempt  to  invefiigate 
their  phyfical  caufes,  which  was  founded  upon  facts 
collected  from  common  experience.    The  latter  have 
aimed  at  accomplifhing  a   reformation   in  pofitics, 
fimilar  to  what  Kepler  and  Newton  accomplifhed  in 
aftronomy  ;    and,  by  fubjeding  to   that   cc^mmon- 
fenfe,  which  guides  mankind  in  their  private  con-- 
cerns,  thofe  queftions,  of  which  none  were  fuppofed 
to  be  competent  judges,   bui  men   initiated   in  the 
myfteries  of  goveruuieut,  have  given  a  beginning  to 
E  R 


226  ELEMENTS  OF  THB  PHrLOSOPHY 

a  fcience  which  has  already  extended  very  widely 
our  political  profpecls  ;  and  which,  in  its  progrefs^ 
may  probably  aflford  an  illuflration,  not  lefs  flriking 
than  that  which  phyfrcal  aftronomy  exhibits,  of  the 
limplicity  of  thofe  laws  by  which  the  univerfe  is  gov- 
erned. 

When  a  political  writer,  in  order  to  expofe  the 
folly  of  thofe  commercial  regulations,  which  aim  at 
the  encouragement  of  domeftic  induftry  by  reftraints 
on  importation,  appeals  to  the  maxims  upon  which 
men  adl  in  private  life  ;  when  he  remarks,  that  the 
taylor  does  not  attempt  to  make  his  own  flioes,  but 
buys  them  of  the  fhoemaker  ;  that  the  flioemaker 
does  not  attempt  to  make  his  own  clothes,  but  em- 
ploys  a  taylor  ;  and  when  he  concludes,  that  what  is 
prudence  in  the  conducl:  of  every  private  family,  can 
icarcely  be  folly  in  that  of  a  great  kingdom  ;*  he 
may  undoubtedly  be  faid,  in  one  fenfe,  to  indulge  in 
theory ;  as  he  calls  in  queftion  the  utiUty  of  inilitu- 
tions  which  appear,  from  the  fact,  to  be  not  incom- 
patible with  a  certain  degree  of  political  profperity. 
But,  in  another  fenfe,  and  in  a  much  more  philo- 
fophical  one,  he  may  be  faid  to  oppofe  to  the  falfe 
theories  of  ftatefmen,  the  common  fenfe  of  man- 
kind ;  and  thofe  maxims  of  expediency,  of  which 
every  man  may  verify  the  truth  by  his  own  daily 
obfervation. 

There  is  yet  another  miftake,  (of  ftill  greater  con- 
fequence,  perhaps,  than  any  of  thofe  I  have  mention- 
ed,) which  has  milled  moft  of  the  opponents,  and 
even  fome  of  the  friends,  of  the  eeconomical  fyftem  ; 
an  idea  that  it  was  meant  to  exhibit  a  political  or- 
der, which  is  really  attainable  in  the  prefent  itate  of 
Europe.  So  different  from  this  were  the  vii^ws  of 
its  moil  enlightened  advocates,  that  they  have  uni- 

*  See  Mr.  Smith's  profound  and  original  "  Inquiry  into  theNa- 
**  ture  and  Causes  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations;' 


<DF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  22? 

formly  retted  their  only  hopes  of  its  gradual  eftab- 
lifhmeut  in  the  world,  on  that  influence  in  the  con- 
dud  of  human  affairs,  which  philofophy  may  be  ex- 
pe  l^ed  gradually  to  acquire,  in  confequence  of  the 
progrefs  of  reafon  and  civilization.  To  fuppofe  that 
a  period  is  ever  to  arrive,  when  it  fhall  be  realifed 
in  its  full  extent,  would  be  the  height  of  erthufiafm 
and  abfurdity ;  but  it  is  furely  neither  eothufiafm 
nor  abfurdity  to  afSrm,  that  governments  are  more 
or  lefs  perfect,  in  proportion  to  the  greater  or  fmal- 
ler  number  of  individuals  to  whom  they  afford  the 
means  of  cultivating  their  intellectual  and  moral 
powers,  and  whom  they  admit  to  live  together  on  a 
liberal  footing  of  equality  ; — or  even  to  expect,  that, 
in  proportion  to  the  progrefs  of  reafon,  govern- 
ments will  adually  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to 
this  defcription. 

To  delineate  that  ftate  of  political  fociety  to  which 
governments  may  be  expected  to  approach  nearer  and 
nearer  as  the  triumphs  of  philofophy  extend,  was,  I 
apprehend,  the  leading  object  of  the  earlieft  and 
moft  enlightened  patrons  of  the  oeconomical  fyftem. 
It  is  a  Itate  of  fociety,  which  tliey  by  no  means  in- 
tended to  recommend  to  particular  communities,  as 
the  moft  eligible  they  could  adopt  at  prefent ;  but 
as  an  ideal  order  of  things,  to  which  they  have  a 
tendency  of  themfelves  to  approach,  and  to  which 
it  ought  to  be  the  aim  of  the  legiflator  to  facilitate 
their  progrefs.  In  the  language  of  mathematicians, 
it  forms  a  limit  to  the  progrcflive  improvement  of  the 
political  order  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  it  exhibits  a 
ftandard  of  comparifon,  by  wliich  the  excellence  of 
particular  inftitutions  may  be  eftimated. 

According  to  the  view  which  has  now  been  giv- 
en of  the  oeconomical  fyftem,  its  principles  appear 
highly  favorable  to  the  tranquillity  of  fociety  ;  inaf- 
much  as,  by  infpiring  us  with  a  confidence  in  the 
triumph  which    truth  and  liberty  muft    infallibly 


228  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

gain  in  the  end  over  error  and  injuftice,  it  has  a  ten- 
dency to  difcourage  every  plan  of  innovation  which 
is  to  be  fupported  by  violence  and  bloodfhed.  And, 
accordingly,  fuch  has  always  been  the  language  of 
thofe  who  were  bed  acquainted  with  the  views  of 
its  authors.  ''  If  we  attack  opprelTors,  before  we  have 
*'  taught  the  opprefTed/'  (fays  one  of  the  ableft  of 
its  prefent  fupporters,*)  "  we  fhall  rifk  the  lofs  of 
*'  liberty,  and  roufe  them  to  oppc^fe  the  progrefs  of 
''  reafon.  Hiftnry  affords  proofs  of  this  trut  h.  How 
*'  often,  in  fpite  of  the  efforts  of  the  friends  of  free- 
''  dom,  has  the  event  of  a  fingle  battle  reduced  na- 
*'  tions  to  the  flavery  of  ages  ! 

"  And  what  is  the  kind  of  liberty  enjoyed  by 
"  thofe  nations,  which  have  recovered  it  by  force  of 
*'  arms,  and  not  by  the  intluence  of  philofophy  ? 
"  Have  not  moft  of  them  coi  founded  the  forms  of 
*'  republicanifm  with  the  enjoy u  ent  of  right,  and 
"  the  defpotifm  of  numbers  with  liberty  ?  How  ma- 
"  ny  laws,  contrary  to  the  rights  of  nature,  have 
*'  difhonored  the  code  of  every  people  which  has  re- 
*'  covered  its  freedom,  during  thofe  ages  in  which 
"  reafon  was  flill  in  its  infancy  1" 

"  Why  not  profit  by  this  fatal  experience,  and 
^^  wifely  wait  the  progrefs  of  knowledge,  in  order 
"  to  obtain  freedom  more  effe<^ual,  more  fubllantial, 
"  and  more  peaceful  ?  Why  purfue  it  by  blood  and 
"  inevitable  confufion,  and  truii  that  to  chance, 
"  which  time  muft  certainly,  and  without  blood- 
*'  fhed,  beftow  ?  A  fortunate  iiruggle  may,  indeed, 
"  relieve  us  of  many  grievances  under  which  we 
"  labour  at  prefent,  but  if  we  wifli  to  fecure  the  per- 
"  fediion,  and  the  permanence  of  freedom,  we  muft 
"  patiently  wait  the  period  when  men,  emancipated 
^'  from  their  prejudices,  and  guided  by  philofophy, 

*  M.  Condorcet. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  229 

"  (tnll  be  rendered  worthy  of  liberty,  by  compre- 
"  hending  its  claims."* 

Nor  is -it  the  employment  of  violent  and  fanguina- 
ry  means  alone,  in  order  to  accompiilh  poUtii^l  in- 
novations, that  this  enlightened  and  humane  philofo- 
phy  has  a  tendency  to  difcourage.  By  extending 
our  views  to  the  whole  plan  of  civil  lodety,  and 
fhewing  us  the  mutual  relations  and  dependencies  of 
its  moft  diftant  parts,  it  cannot  fail  to  check  that  in- 
difcriminate  zeal  againft  eftablifhed  inlti  utions, 
which  arifes  from  partial  views  of  the  focial  fyftem  ; 
as  well  as  to  produce  a  certain  degree  of  fee;  ticifm 
with  refped:  to  every  change,  the  fuccefs  of  which  is 
not  infured  by  the  prevailing  ideas  and  manners  of 
the  age.  Sanguine  and  inconlider ate  projeclb  of  re- 
formation are  frequently  the  offspring  of  clear  and 
argumentative  and  fyftematical  underftandings  ;  but 
rarely  of  comprehenfive  minds.  For  checking  them, 
indeed,  nothing  is  fo  effectual,  as  a  general  lurvey  of 
the  complicated  flrucfure  of  fociety.  Even  although 
fuch  a  furvey  fhould  oe  fuperficial,  provided  it  be 
conducted  on  an  extenfive  fcale,  it  is  more  uieful,  at 
lead,  for  this  purpofe,  than  the  moft  minute  and 
fuccefsful  inquiries,  which  are  circumfcribed  within 
a  narrow  circle.  If  it  fliould  teach  us  nothing  elfe, 
it  will  at  leaft  fatisfy  us  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
predicting,  with  confidence,  the  remote  eflldts  of 
new  arrangements  ;  and  that  the  perfection  of  polit- 
ical wifdom  confifts  not  in  incumbering  the  machine 
of  governments  with  new  contrivances  to  obviate 

*To  some  of  my  readers  it  may  appear  trifling  to  remark, 
that,  in  availing  myself  of  an  occasional  coinc  idcnce  of  ^en- 
timeijt  wiih  a  cotemporary  Aathor,  I  would  not  Oe  under- 
stood to  become  responsible  f  )r  the  consistency  of  his  per- 
sonal conduct  with  his  philosf)phical  principles,  nor  to  sub- 
scribe to  any  one  of  his  opinions,  but  thise  to  which  I 
have  expressed  my  assent  In  incorporating:  them  with  my 
own  composition,     [A^ate  to  second  Edilion.^ 


230  ELEMENTS  OF  TAE  PHILOSOPHY 

every  partial  inconvenience,  but  in  removing  grad- 
ually, and  innperceptibly,  the  obftacles  which  tiifturb 
the  order  of  nature,  and  (as  Mr.  Adciilon  lonnewhere 
exprefles  it)  "  in  grafting  upon  her  inftitufions." 

When  the  ceconon)ical  fyftem,  indeed,  is  firft  pre- 
fented  to  the  mind,  and  when  we  compare  the  per- 
fection which  it  exhibits,  with  the  aclu;il  ftate  of  hu- 
man affairs,  it  is  by  no  means  unnatural,  that  it 
fliould  fuggefl  plans  of  reformation  too  violent  and 
fuJden  to  be  practicable.  A  more  complete  ac- 
quaintance, however,  with  the  fubjed,  will  efFeclu- 
ally  cure  thefe  iirfl  impreilions,  by  pointing  out  to 
us  the  miichieFs  to  be  apprehended  from  an  injudi- 
cious combination  of  theoretical  perfection  with  our 
eit ibiifhed  laws,  prejudices,  and  manners.  As  the 
various  unnatural  modes  and  habits  of  living,  to 
which  the  bodily  conflitution  is  gradually  reconciled 
by  'i  courfe  of  luxurious  indulgences,  have  luch  a 
tendency  to  correct  each  other's  effects,  as  to  render 
a  partial  return  to  a  more  (imple  regimen,  a  danger- 
ous, and,  fometimes,  a  fatal  experiment ;  fo  it  is  pof- 
fible,  that  many  of  our  imperfect  political  inflitutions 
may  be  fo  accommodated  to  each  other,  that  a  par- 
tial execution  of  the  moft  plaufible  and  equitable 
plans  of  reformation,  might  tend,  in  the  firft  initance, 
to  fruftrate  thofe  important  purpofes  which  we  are 
anxious  to  promote,  lo  it  not  poflibie,  for  example, 
that  the  influence  which  is  founded  on  a  reipe<5t  for 
hereditary  rank,  may  have  iis  ufe  in  counteracting 
that  ariftocracy  which  arifes  from  inequality  of 
wealth  ;  and  which  fo  many  laws  and  prejudices 
confpire  to  fupport  ?  That  the  former  fpecies  of  in- 
fluence is  rapidly  declining  of  itfeif,  in  confequence 
of  the  progrefs  which  commerce  and  philofophy  have 
already  made,  is  fufficiently  obvious  ;  and,  1  think, 
it  may  reafonably  be  doubted,  whether  a  well  wifher 
to  mankind  would  be  difpofed  to  accelerate  its  def- 
trudion,  till  the  true  principles  of  political  oeconomy 


Of  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  Si^f 

are  completely  underftood  and  acknowledged  by 
the  world. 

Various  other  examples  might  be  produced,  to  \U 
luftrate  the  dangers  to  be  apprehended  from  the 
partial  influence  of  general  principles  in  politics ;  or, 
in  other  words,  from  an  exclufive  attention  to  par- 
ticular circumftances  in  the  political  order,  without 
comprehenfive  views  of  the  fubject.  It  is  only  upon 
a  limited  mind,  therefore,  that  fuch  ftudies  will  pro- 
duce a  paffion  for  violent  innovations.  In  more 
comprehenfive  and  enlightened  underftandings, their 
natural  efFed  is  caution  and  diffidence  with  refpecl 
to  the  illue  of  every  experiment,  of  which  we  do  not 
perceive  diftincWy  all  the  remote  confequences. 
Nor  is  this  caution  at  all  inconfiftent  with  a  firm  con- 
fidence in  the  certainty  of  that  triumph  which  truth 
and  liberty  muft  infallibly  gain  in  the  end  over  error 
and  injuftice.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  natural  and 
obvious  confequence  of  fuch  a  conviction  ;  inasmuch 
as  the  fame  arguments  on  which  this  convidii^m  is 
founded,  prove  to  us,  that  the  progrefs  of  mankind 
towards  the  perfedion  of  the  focial  order,  muft  ne- 
ceflarily,  in  every  caufe,  be  gradual  ;  and  that  it 
muft  be  diverfified  in  the  courfe  it  takes,  according 
to  the  fituations  and  charaders  of  nations.  To  di- 
redi,  and,  as  far  as  poilible,  to  accelerate,  this  pro- 
grefs, ought  to  be  the  great  aim  of  the  enlightened 
liatefman,  and,  indeed,  of  every  man  who  wiflies 
well  to  his  fpecies  ;  but  it  is  neceflary  for  him  al- 
ways to  remember,  that  confiderable  alterations  in 
the  eftablifhed  order,  are  very  feldom  to  be  affected 
immediately  and  diredly  by  political  regulations  ; 
and  that  they  are,  in  all  cafes,  moft  fucce(stul  and 
moft  permanent,  when  they  are  accompiifhed  grad- 
ually by  natural  caufes,  freed  horn  thofe  reftraints 
"wh^ch  had  formerly  checked  their  operation.  In 
the  governments,  indeed,  of  modern  Europe,  it  is 
much  more  neceflary  to  abolifh  oldinftitutions,  thaa 


2S2  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

to  introduce  new  ones  ;  and  if  this  reformation  be 
kept  lleadily  in  view,  and  not  puUied  farther  at  any 
time  than  circumftances  render  expedient,  or  the 
ideas  of  the  times  recommend,  the  eflential  princi- 
ples of  a  more  perfect  order  of  things,  will  gradual- 
ly  eftablilh  themifelves,  without  any  convulfion. 

According  to  this  view  of  the  fubjcd,  the  fpecu- 
lation  concerning  the  perfe6t  order  of  fociety,  is  to 
be  regarded  merely  as  a  defcription  of  the  ultimate 
objeds  at  which  the  ftatesman  ought  to  aim.  The 
tranquiiiity  of  his  adminiftration,  and  the  immediate 
fuccels  of  his  m.eafures,  depend  on  his  good  fenfe,  and 
his  practical  fkill.  And  his  theoretical  principles  on- 
ly enable  him  to  direct  his  meafures  fteadily  and 
wifely,  to  promote  the  improvement  and  happinefs 
of  mankind  ;  and  prevent  hiwi  from  being  ever  led 
allray  from  thefe  important  objects,  by  more  linated 
views  of  temporary  expedience.* 

*  The  foregoing  observations  on  the  general  aim  of  the 
CEconomical  System  refer  solely  (as  must  appear  evident 
to  those  who  have  peniscd  them  with  attention)  to  the  doc- 
trines it  contains  on  the  article  of  Political  Economy,  The 
Theory  of  Government  which  it  inculcates,  is  of  the  most 
dangerous  tendency  ;  recommending,  in  strong  and  unqual- 
ified terras,  ao  unmixed  despotism  ;  and  reprobating  all 
constitutional  checks  on  the  sovereign  authority.  Many 
English  writers,  indeed,  with  an  almost  incredible  ignor- 
ance of  the  works  which  they  have  presumed  to  censure, 
have  spoken  of  them,  as  if  they  encouraged  political  princi- 
ples of  a  very  difierent  complexion  ;  but  the  truth  is,  that 
the  dibciples  of  ^uesnai  (without  a  single  exception)  car- 
ried their  zeal  for  the  pnwer  ol  the  monarch,  and  what 
they  called  the  Unity  of  Legislation^  to  so  extravagant  a 
length,  as  to  treat  with  contempt,  those  mixed  establish- 
ments which  allow  any  share  whatever  of  legislative  influ- 
ence to  the  representatives  of  the  people.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  evidence  of  this  system  appeared  to  its  partisans  sa 
complete  and  irresistible,  that  they  flattered  tbemhclves 
monarchs  would  soon  see  wiih  an  itKuitive  conviction,  the 
identity  of  their  own  interests  with  those  of  the  nations  ihey 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  233 

Before  cloflng  this  difquifition,  it  may  be  proper 
for  me  to  attempt  to  obviate  a  little  more  fully  than 
I  have  done,  an  objecllon  which  has  been  frequently 
drawn  from  the  pail  experience  of  mankind,  againil 
that  fuppofition  of  their  progrellive  improvement, 
on  which  all  the  foregoing  reafonings  proceed. 
How  mournful  are  the  vicillitudes  which  hillory  ex- 
hibits to  us,  in  the  courfe  of  human  affairs ;  and  how 
little  foundation  do  they  afford  to  our  fanguine  prof- 
pects  concerning  futurity  !  If,  in  thofe  parts  of  the 
earth  which  were  formerly  inhabited  by  barbarians, 
we  now  fee  the  moft  fplendid  exertions  of  genius, 
and  the  happiell  forms  of  civil  policy,  we  behold 
others  which,  in  antient  times,  were  the  feats  of 

are  called  to  govern  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  they  conten- 
ded, that  it  is  only  under  the  strong  and  steady  government 
of  a  race  of  hereditary  princes,  undistracted  by  the  prejudi- 
ces and  local  interests  which  warp  the  deliberations  of 
popular  assemblies,  that  a  gi  adual  and  systematical  approach 
can  be  nrjade  to  the  perfection  of  law  and  policy.  '1  he  ve- 
ry first  of  ^ut\sfia2''s  maxims  states,  as  a  fundamental  prin- 
ciple, that  the  sovereign  authority,  utiresirained  by  any 
constitutional  checks  or  balances,  should  be  lodged  in  the- 
hands  of  a  single  person  ;  and  the  same  doctrine  is  main- 
tained zealously  by  all  his  followers  ; — by  none  of  them 
more  explicitly  than  by  Mercier  de  la  Riviere^  whose  trea- 
tise on  *'  the  natural  and  essential  f>rder  oF  political  socie- 
ties," might  have  been  expected  to  attract  some  roticc  in 
this  country,  from  the  praise  which  iMr.  Smith  has  bestow- 
ed on  the  perspicuity  of  his  style,  and  the  dislirctness  ot  his 
arrangement. 

If  some  individuals  who  formerly  professed  an  enthusi- 
astic attachment  to  the  doctrines  of  this  sect,  have,  at  a  later 
period  of  their  lives,  distinguished  themselves  bv  an  enthu- 
siasm no  less  ardent  in  opposition  to  the  principles  advan- 
ced in  their  writings,  the  fact  only  aflcrds  an  additional  il- 
lustration of  a  trmh  verified  by  daily  experience,  that  the 
most  solid  foundation  for  political  consistency  is  a  spirit  of 
moderation,  and  that  the  most  natural  and  easy  of  all  trans- 
itions is  from  the  violence  and  intolerance  of  one  extreme 
to  those  of  another.      \Note  to  ftecQ7id  Edition,] 

Ff 


^34  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fcience,  of  civilization,  and  of  liberty,  at  prefent  inn. 
merfed  in  fuperftition,  and  laid  wafte  by  defpolifm. 
After  a  fhort  period  of  civil,  of  military,  and  of 
literary  glory,  the  profpe6l  has  changed  at  once  : 
the  career  of  degeneracy  has  begun,  and  has  proceed- 
ed till  it  could  advance  no  farther  ;  or  fome  unfore- 
feen  calamity  has  occurred,  which  has  obliterated, 
for  a  time,  all  memory  of  former  improvements, 
and  has  condemned  mankind  to  re-trace,  flep  by 
ftep,  the  fame  path  by  which  their  forefathers  had 
rifen  to  great nefs.  In  a  word  ;  on  fuch  a  retrofpecl- 
ive  view  of  humaan  aflfairs,  man  appears  to  be  the 
mere  fport  of  fortune  and  of  accident  ;  or  rather, 
he  appears  to  be  doom.ed,  by  the  condition  of  his 
nature,  to  run  alternately  the  career  of  improvement 
and  of  degeneracy  ;  and  to  realife  the  beautiful  but 
melancholy  fable  of  Sifyphus,  by  an  eternal  renova- 
tion of  hope  and  of  difappointment. 

In  oppofition  to  thefe  difcouraging  views  of  the 
Hate  and  profpecl  of  man  ;  it  may  be  remarked  in 
general,  that  in  the  courfe  of  thele  latter  ages,  a  va- 
riety of  events  have  happened  in  the  hiftory  of  the 
world,  w^hich  render  the  condition  of  the  human 
race  effentially  different  from  what  it  ever  was 
among  the  nations  of  antiquity  ;  and  which,  of  con- 
fequence,  render  all  our  reafbnings  concerning  their 
future  fortunes,  in  fo  far  as  they  are  founded  mere- 
ly on  their  paft  experience,  unphilofophical  and  in- 
conclulive.  The  alterations  which  have  taken  place 
in  the  art  of  war,  in  confequence  of  the  invention  of 
firearms,  and 'of  the  modern  fcience  of  fortification, 
have  given  to  civilized  nations  a  fecurity  againft  the 
irruptions  of  barbarians,  which  they  never  before 
pijfieiTed.  The  more  extended,  and  the  more  con- 
ftant  intercourfe,  v^hich  the  improvements  in  com- 
merce and  in  the  art  of  navigation  have  opened, 
among  the  diftant  quarters  of  the  globe,  cannot  fail 
to  operate  in  undermining  local  and  national  preju- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  2S5 

dices,  and  in  imparting  to  the  whole  fpecies  the  in- 
telleclual  acquifitions  of  each  particular  community. 
The  accumulated  experience  of  ages  has  already- 
taught  the  rulers  of  mankind,  that  the  moil  fruitful 
and  the  moft  permanent  fources  of  revenue,  are  to  be 
derived,  not  from  conquered  and  tributary  provin- 
ces, but  from  the  internal  profperity  and  wealth  of 
their  own  fubje<fls  : — and  the  fame  experience  now 
begins  to  teach  nations,  that  the  increafe  of  their  own 
wealth,  fo  far  from  depending  on  the  poverty  and 
deprellion  of  their  neighbors,  is  intimately  connect- 
ed with  their  induftry  and  opulence  ;  and  confe- 
quently,  that  thofe  commercial  jealoufies,  which 
have  hitherto  been  fo  fertile  a  fource  of  animofity 
among  different  ftates,  are  founded  entirely  on 
ignorance  and  prejudice.  Among  all  the  circum- 
ftances,  however,  which  diftinguifli  the  prefent  ftate 
of  mankind  from  that  of  antient  nations,  the  inven- 
tion of  printing  is  by  far  the  moft  important  ;  and, 
indeed,  this  fingle  event,  independently  of  every  oth- 
er, is  fufficient  to  change  the  whole  courfe  of  human 
affairs. 

The  influence  which  printing  is  likely  to  have  on 
the  future  hiftory  of  the  world,  has  not,  T  think, 
been  hitherto  examined,  by  philofophers,  with  the 
attention  which  the  importance  of  the  fubjed  de- 
ferves.  One  reafon  for  this  may,  probably,  have 
been,  that,  as  the  invention  has  never  been  made  but 
once,  it  has  been  confidered  rather  as  the  effect  of  a 
fortunate  accident,  than  as  the  refult  of  thofe  general 
caufes  on  which  the  progrefs  of  fociety  feems  to  de- 
pend. But  it  may  be  reafonably  quclliorod,  how 
far  this  idea  be  juft.  For,  although  it  fliould  be  al- 
lowed, that  the  invention  of  printing  was  accidental, 
with  refpcdt  to  the  individual  who  made  it,  it  may, 
with  truth,  be  confidered  as  the  natural  refult  of  a 
ftate  of  the  world,  when  a  number  of  great  and  con- 
tiguous nations  are  all  engaged  in  the  ftudy  of  lite- 


256  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

rature,  in  the  purfuit  of  fcience,  and  In  the  prafticc 
of  the  arts  ;  infomuch,  that  I  do  not  think  it  extra- 
vagant to  affirm,  that,  if  this  invention  had  not  been 
made  by  the  particular  perfon  to  whom  it  is  afcribed, 
the  fame  art,  or  fome  analagous  art,  anfwering  a  fim- 
ilar  purpofe,  would  have  infallibly  been  invented  by 
fome  other  perfon,  and  at  no  very  diftant  period. 
The  art  of  printing,  therefore,  is  intitled  to  be  con- 
fidered  as  a  Hep  in  the  natural  hiftory  of  man,  no 
lefs  than  the  art  of  writing  ;  and  they  who  are  fcep- 
tical  about  the  future  progrefs  of  the  race,  merely  in 
confequence  of  its  paft  hiftory,  reafon  as  unphilo- 
fophically,  as  the  member  of  a  favage  tribe,  who,  de- 
riving his  own  acquaintance  with  former  times  from 
oral  tradition  only,  fliould  effect  to  call  in  queftion 
the  efficacy  of  written  records,  in  accelerating  the 
progrefs  ot  knowledge  and  of  civilization. 

What  will  be  the  particular  effi3d:s  of  this  inven- 
tion, (which  has  been,  hitherto,  much  checked  in  its 
operation,  by  the  reftraints  on  the  liberty  of  the 
prefs  in  the  greater  part  of  Europe,)  it  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  fagacity  to  conjedure  ;  but,  in  gen- 
eral, we  may  venture  to  predict  with  confidence, 
that,  in  every  country,  it  will  gradually  operate  to 
widen  the  circle  of  fcience  and  civilization  ;  to  dif- 
tribute  more  equally,  among  all  the  members  of  the 
community,  the  advantages  of  the  political  union  j 
and  to  enlarge  the  balls  of  equitable  governments, 
by  increaiing  the  number  of  thofe  who  underfland 
their  value,  and  are  interefted  to  defend  them.  The 
fcience  of  legiflation,  too,  with  all  the  other  branches 
of  knowledge  which  are  connected  with  huriBan  im- 
provement, may  be  expected  to  advance  with  rapidi- 
ty ;  and,  in  proportion  as  the  opinions  and  inlfitu- 
tions  of  men  approach  to  truth  and  to  juftice,  they 
will  be  iecurea  againlf  thofe  revolutions  to  which  hu- 
man affairs  have  always  been  hitherto  fubject.  Opinio- 
num  enim  commenia  delet  dies^  naiura  judicla  confinnaU 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  237 

The  revolutions  incident  to  the  democratical 
ftates  of  antiquity  furnifh  no  folid  objeclion  to  the 
foregoing  obfervadons  :  for  none  of  thefe  ftates  en- 
ji)yed  the  advantages  which  modern  times  derive 
from  the  difFufion,  and  from  the  rapid  circulation  of 
of  knowledge.  In  thefe  ftates  moft  of  the  revolu- 
tions which  happened,  arofe  from  the  ftruggles  of 
demagogues,  who  employed  the  pafllons  of  the  mul- 
titude, in  fubferviency  to  their  own  intereft  and  am- 
bition ;  and  to  all  of  them,  the  ingenious  and  ftrik- 
ing  remark  of  Hobbes  will  be  found  applicable  ; 
that  "  Democracy  is  nothing  but  an  ariftocracy  of 
"  orators,  interrupted  fometimes  by  the  tem.porary 
"  monarchy  of  a  fmgle  orator.'*  While  this  contin- 
ued to  be  the  cale,  democratical  conftitutions  were, 
undoubtedly,  the  moft  unfavorable  of  any  to  the 
tranquillity  of  mankind  ;  and  the  only  way  to  pre- 
fer ve  the  order  of  fociety  was,  by  fkiifully  balan- 
cing againft  each  other,  the  prejudices,  and  the  fepa- 
rate  interefts,  of  different  orders  of  citizens.  That 
fuch  balances,  however,  will  every  day  become  lefs 
neceffary  for  checking  the  turbulence  of  the  demo- 
cratical fpirit  in  free  governments,  appears  probable 
from  this  ;  that  among  the  various  advantages  to  be 
expecled  from  the  liberty  of  the  prcfs,  one  of  the 
greateft  is,  the  effe€t  which  it  muft  neceflarily  have 
in  diminilhing  the  influence  of  popular  eloquence  ; 
both  by  curing  men  of  thofe  prejudices  upon  which 
it  operates,  and  by  fubje^ting  it  to  the  irrefiftible 
control  of  enlightened  opinions.  In  the  republican 
ftates  of  antiquity,  the  eloquence  of  demagogues  was 
indeed  a  dangerous  engine  of  faction,  while  it  afpir- 
cd  to  govern  nations  by  its  unlimited  fway  in  di- 
reding  popular  councils.  But,  now,  when  the  effu- 
fions  of  the  orator  are,  by  means  of  the  prefs,  lub- 
jccted  to  the  immediate  tribunal  of  an  inquifitivo 
age,  the  eloquence  of  Icgiflative  aflemblies  is  forced 
to  borrow  its  tone  from  the  fpirit  of  the  times ;  and 


238  liLIiMENTS  or  THE  PHILOSOPHT 

if  it  retain  its  afcendant  in  human  affairs,  it  can  only 
be,  by  lending  its  aid  to  the  prevailing-  caufe,  and  to 
the  permanent  interefts  of  truth  and  of  freedom. 

Of  the  progrefs  which  may  yet  be  made  in  the 
different  branches  of  moral  and  political  philofophy, 
we  may  form  fome  idea,  from  what  has  already  hap- 
pened  in  phyiics,  fmce  the  time  that  Lord  Bacon 
united,  in  one  ufefui  direction,  the  labors  of  thofe 
who  cultivate  that  fcience.  At  the  period  when  he 
wrote,  phyfics  was  certainly  in  a  more  hopelefs 
ilate,  than  that  of  moral  and  political  philofophy  in 
the  prefent  age.  A  perpetual  fucceflion  of  chimer- 
ical theories  had,  till  then,  amuied  the  world ;  and 
the  prevailing  opinion  was,  that  the  cafe  would  con- 
tinue to  be  the  fame  for  ever.  Why  then  lliould 
we  defpair  of  the  competency  of  the  human  faculties 
toeftabiiih  folid  and  permanent  fyftems,  upon  other 
fubjeds,  which  are  of  ftiil  more  ferious  importance  ? 
Phyiics,  it  is  true,  is  free  from  many  difficulties 
which  obilrud  our  progrefs  in  moral  and  poHtical 
inquiries ;  but,  perh  ^ps,  thia  advantage  may  be 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  tendency  they 
have  to  engage  a  m.ore  univerfal,  and  a  more  ear- 
ned attention  in  confequence  of  their  coming  home 
more  immediately  to  our  "  bufinefs  and  our  bo- 
foms."  When  thefe  fciences  too  begin  to  be  profe- 
cuted  on  a  regular  and  fyilematical  plan,  their  im- 
provement will  go  on  with  an  accelerated  velocity  5 
not  only  as  the  number  of  fpeculative  minds  will  be 
every  day  increafed  in  the  diffufion  of  knowledge, 
but  as  an  acquaintance  with  the  juft  rules  of  inquiry 
will  more  and  more  place  important  difcoveries 
within  the  reach  of  ordinary  underftandings.  "Such 
"  rules,"  (fays  Lord  Bacon)  "  do,  in  fome  fort,  e- 
*'  qual  men's  wits,  and  leave  no  great  advantage  or 
"  pre-eminence  to  the  perfe^'  andexceilent  motions 
"  of  the  fpirit.  To  draw  a  llraight  line,'or  to  de- 
^-  fcribe  a  circle,  by  aim  of  hand  only,  there  mufl  be 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  Q3^ 

"  a  great  difFerence  between  an  unfleady  and  an  un- 
"  pradifed  hand,  and  a  fteady  and  practiied  ;  but,  to 
"  do  it  by  rule  or  compafs,  it  is  much  alike." 

Nor  muft  we  onut  to  mention  the  value  which 
the  art  of  printing  communicates  to  the  moft  limit- 
ed exertions  of  literary  induftry,  by  treafuring  them 
up  as  materials  for  the  future  examination  of  more 
enlightened  inquirers.  In  this  refpecl  the  prefs  be- 
llows upon  the  fciences,  an  advantage  fomewhat  a- 
nalogjus  to  that  which  the  mechanical  arts  derive 
from  the  divifion  of  labor.  As  in  thefe  arts,  the 
exertions  of  an  uninformed  multitude,  are  united  by 
the  comprehenfive  ikill  of  the  artift,  in  the  accom- 
plifhment  of  effects  aftonifhing  by  their  magnitude, 
and  by  the  complicated  ingenuity  they  difplay ;  fo, 
in  the  fciences,  the  obfervations  and  conjeftures  of 
obfcure  individuals  on  thofe  fubjecls  which  are  lev- 
el to  their  capacities^  and  which  fall  under  their  own 
immediate  notice,  accumulate  for  a  courfe  of  years  ; 
till  at  laft,  fotne  pliilofopher  arifes,  who  combines 
thefe  fcattered  materials,  and  exhibits,  in  his  fyftem, 
not  merely  the  force  of  a  fmgle  mind,  but  the  intel- 
lectual power  of  the  age  in  which  he  lives. 

It  is  upon  thefe  lalt  confiderations,  much  m.ore 
than  on  the  efforts  of  original  genius,  that  I  would 
reft  my  hopes  of  the  progrefs  of  the  race.  What 
genius  alone  could  accompiifli  in  fcience,  the  world 
has  already  feen  :  and  I  am  ready  to  fubfcribe  to  the 
opinion  of  thofe  who  think,  that  the  fplendor  of  its 
paft  exertions  is  not  likely  to  be  obfcured  by  the 
fame  of  future  philofophers.  But  the  exoeriment 
yet  remains  to  be  tried,  what  lights  may  be  thrown 
on  the  moft  iir.portant  of  all  fuhjects,  by  the  free 
difcullionsof  inquifitive  nations,  unfettered  by  prej- 
udice, and  ftimulated  in  their  inquiries  by  every 
motive  thit  can  awaken  whatever  is  either  generous 
or  felfifli  in  human  nature.  How  trifling  are  t!ie 
effeds  which  the  bodily  ftrength  of  an  individual  is 


240  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

able  to  produce,  (however  great  may  be  his  natural 
endowments,)  when  compared  with  thofe  which 
have  been  accomplKhed  by  the  confpiring  force  of  an 
ordinary  multitude  ?  It  was  not  the  fmgle  arm  of  a 
Tliefeus,  or  a  Hercules,  but  the  hands  of  fuch  men  as 
ourfelves,  that,  in  ancient  Egypt,  raifed  thofe  mon- 
uments of  architecture,  which  remain  from  age  to 
age,  to  atteft  the  wonders  of  combined  and  of  per- 
fcvering  induftry  ;  and,  while  they  humble  the  im- 
portance of  the  individual,  to  exalt  the  dignity,  and 
to  animate  the  labors,  of  the  fpecies. 

Thefe  views  with  refpecl  to  the  probable  improve- 
ment of -the  world,  are  fo  conducive  to  the  comfort 
of  thofe  who  entertain  them,  that  even,  althougli 
they  were  founded  in  delufion,  a  wife  man  woulci 
be  difpofed  to  cherifh  them.  What  Ihould  have  in- 
duced fome  refpedable  writers  to  controvert  them, 
with  fo  great  an  afperity  of  expreilion,  it  is  not  eafy 
to  conjecture  ;  for  whatever  may  be  thought  of  their 
truth,  their  practical  tendency  is  furely  favorable  to 
human  happinefs  ;  nor  can  that  temper  of  mind, 
which  difpofes  a  man  to  give  them  a  welcome  recep- 
tion, be  candidly  fufpecled  of  deligns  hoftile  to  the 
interefts  of  humanity.  One  thing  is  certain,  that 
the  greateft  of  all  obilacles  to  the  improvement  of 
the  world,  is  that  prevailing  belief  of  its  impropabil- 
ity,  which  damps  the  exertions  of  fo  many  individ- 
uals ;  and  that,  in  proportion  as  the  contrary  opin- 
ion becomes  general,  it  reaiifes  the  event  which  it 
leads  us  to  anticipate.  Surely,  if  any  thing  can  have 
a  tendency  to  cail  forth  in  the  public  fervice  the  ex- 
ertions of  individuals,  it  muft  be  an  idea  of  the  mag- 
nitude of  that  work  in  which  they  are  confpiring, 
and  a  belief  of  the  permanence  of  thofe  benefits, 
which  they  confer  on  mankind  by  every  attempt  to 
inform  and  to  enlighten  them.  As  in  ancient  Rome, 
therefore,  it  was  regarded  as  the  mark  of  a  good 
citizen,  never  to  defpair  of  the  fortunes  of  the  re- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  241 

public  ; — fo  the  good  citizen  of  the  world,  whatev- 
er may  be  the  political  afped  of  his  own  times,  will 
never  defpair  of  the  fortunes  of  the  human  race  ; 
but  will  ad  upon  the  conviction,  that  prejudice, 
flavery,  and  corruption,  muft  gradually  give  way  to 
truth,  liberty,  and  virtue  ;  and  that,  in  the  moral 
world,  as  well  as  in  the  material,  the  farther  our  ob- 
fervations  extend,  and  the  longer  they  are  continu- 
ed, the  more  we  (hall  perceive  of  order  and  of  be- 
ne volent  delign  in  the  univerfe. 

Nor  is  this   change  in  the  condition  of  Man,  in 
confequence  of  the  progrefs  of  reafon,  by  any  means 
contrary  to  the  general  analogy  of  his  natural  hifto- 
ry.     In  the  infancy  of  the  individual,  his  exiften  e 
is  prefer ved  by  inftincts,  which  difappear  afterwards, 
when  they  are  no  longer  neceffary.     In  the  favage 
ilate  of  our  fpecies,  there  are  inftind:s  which  feem  to 
form  a  part  of  the  human  conftitution  ;  and  of  which 
no  traces  remain  in  thofe  periods  of  fociety  in  which 
their  ufe  is  fuperfeded  by  a  more  enlarged  experi- 
ence.    Why  then  fhould  we  deny  the  probabiUiy  of 
iomething  limilar  to  this,  in  the  hiftory  of  mankind 
confidered  in  their  political  capacity  ?  I  have  already 
had  occafion  to  obferve,  that  the  governments  which 
the  world  has  hitherto  feen,  have  feldom  \>r  never 
taken  their  rife  from  deep-laid  fchemes  of  human 
policy.     In  every  ftate  of  fociety  which  has  yet  ex- 
ifted,  the  multitude  has,  in  general,  aded  trom  the 
immediate  impulfe  of  paflion,  and  from  the  prefTure 
of  their  wants  and  neceffiries  ;  and,  therefore,  what 
we  commonly  call  the  political  order,  is,  at  leaft  in  a 
great  meafure,  the  refult  of  the  paflions  and  wants  of 
man,  combined  with  the  circumftances  of  his  fitua- 
tion  ;  or,  in  other  words,  it  is  chiefly  the  refult  of 
the  wiCdom  of  nature.     So  beautifully,  indeed,  do 
thefe  paflions  and  circumllances  a<fl  in  fublerviency 
to  her  deiigns,  and  fo  invariably  have  they  been 
found,  in  the   hiftory  of  pall  ages,  to  conduct  him 
Go 


!i42  ELEMENTS' OF  TKJE  I'HILOSOPIIY 

in  time  to  certain  beneficial  arrangements,  that  we 
can  hardly  bring  ourfelves  to  believe,  that  tlie  end 
was  not  forefeen  by  thoic  who. were  engaged  in  the 
purfuit.  Even  la  thofe  rude  periods-  of  fociety, 
when,  like  the  lower  animals,  he  follows  blindly  his 
inftinclive  principles  of  adion,  he  is  led  by  an  invifi- 
ble  hand,  and  contributes  his  fhare  to  the  execution 
of  a  plan,  of  the  nature  and  advantages  of  which  he 
has  no  conception.  The  operations  of  the  bee, 
when  it  begins,  for  the  firft  time,  to  form  its  cell^ 
conveys  to  us  a  ftriking  image  of  the  efforts  of  un- 
enlighrened  Man,  in  conducting  the  operations  of  an 
infant  government. 

A  great  variety  of  prejudices  might  be  mentioned, 
which  are  found  to  prevail  univerfally   among  our 
fpecies  in  certain  periods  of  fociety,  and  which  feem 
to  be  effentially  neceffary  for  maintaining  its  order, 
in  ages  when  men  are  unable  to  comprehend  the 
purpofes  for  which  governments  are  inftituted.     As 
fociety  advances,  thefe  prejudices  gradually  lofe  their 
influence  on  the  higher  claffes,  and  would  probably 
foon  difappear  altogether,  if  it  were  not  found  ex- 
pedient to  prolong,  their  exiflence,  as  a  fource  of  au- 
thority over  the  multitude.     In    an  age,  however^ 
of  univerfal  and  of  unrellrained  difcufhon,  it  is  ii 
poflible  that  they  can  long  maintain  their  empire 
nor  ought  we  to  regret  their  decline,  if  the  imporJ 
tant  ends  to  which  they  have  been  fubfervient  ii 
the  pait  experience  of  mankind,  are  found  to  be  a( 
comphflied  by  the  growing  light  of  philolbphy.    Oi 
this  iuppofition,  a  hiftory  of  human  prejudices, 
far  as  they  have  fupplied  the  place  of  more  enlarge< 
political,  views,  may,  at  fome  future  period,  furnisl 
to  the  philofopher  a  fubjeft  of  fpeculation,  no  lefri 
pleafing  and  inftructive,  than  that  beneficent  wifdom 
of  nature,  which  guides  the  operations  of  the  lower 
animals  ;  and  which,  even  in  our  own  fpecies,  takes 
upon  itfelf  the  care  of  the  individual  in  the  infancy 
of  humao  reafon. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIN©.  £43 

rhave  only  to  obferve  farther,  that,  in  proportion 
as  thefe  profpefts,  v/ith  refpect  to  the  progrefs  of 
reafon,  the  difFufion  of  knowledge,  and  the  confe- 
quent  improvement  of  mankind,  fhall  be  realifed ; 
the  political  hiilory  of  the  world  will  be  regulated 
by  fteady  and  uniform  caufes,  and  the  philoiopher 
will  be  enabled  to  form  probable  conjedures  with 
refped  to  the  future  courfe  of  human  affairs. 

It  is  juftly  remarked  by  Mr.  Hume,  that  "  what 
"  depends  on  a  few  perfons  is,  in  a  great  meafure,  to 
*'  be  afcribed  to  chance,  or  fecret  and  unknown 
"  caufes :  what  arifes  from  a  great  number,  may  of- 
*'  ten  be  accounted  for  by  determinate  and  known 
*'  caufes."  "  To  judge  by  this  rule,*'  (he  continues,) 
*'  the  domeftic  and  the  gradual  revolutions  of  a  flate 
"  muft  be  a  more  proper  objeft  of  reafoning  and  ob- 
"  fervation,  than  the  foreign  and  the  violent,  which 
"  are  commonly  produced  by  fingle  perfons,  and  are 
"more  influenced  by  whim,  folly,  or  caprice,  than 
*'  by  general  pailions  and  interefts.  The  depreflion 
*'  of  the  Lords,  and  rife  of  the  Commons,  in  Eng- 
*'  land,  after  the  flatutes  of  alienation  and  the  in- 
"  creafe  of  trade  and  induftry,  are  more  cafily  ac- 
•'  counted  for  by  general  principles  than  the  depref- 
"  Con  of  the  Spaniih,  and  rife  of  the  French  monar- 
*'  chy,  after  the  death  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  Had 
^'  Harry  the  Fourth,  Cardinal  Richlieu,  and  Louis 
'•  the  Fourteenth,  been  Spaniards ;  and  Philip  the 
"  Second,  Third  and  Fourth,  and  Charles  the  Sec- 
"  ond,  been  Frenchmen  ;  the  hiftory  of  thefe  na^ 
"  lions  had  been  entirely  reverfed." 

From  thefe  principles,  it  would  feem  to  be  a  ner 
ccflkry  confequence,  that,  in  proportion  as  the  cir- 
cumftances  fliail  operate  which  I  have  b^en  endeav- 
oring to  iiluftrate,  ihe  whole  fyftem  of  human  affairs 
including  both  the  domeftic  order  of  f  )ciety  in  par- 
ticular ftates,  and  the  relations  which  exifl  among 
different  communities,  in  confequence  of  war  and 


244*  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

negociation,  will  be  fubjefled  to  the  influence  of 
caufes  which  are  "  known  and  determinate."  Thofe 
domeftic  .ifFairs,  which,  according  to  Mr.  Hume,  are 
already  proper  fubjec^s  of  reafoning  and  obfervation, 
in  confequence  of  their  dependence  on  general  in- 
terefls  and  pailions,  will  become  fo,  more  and  more, 
daily,  as  prejudices  fhall  decline,  and  knowledge  fhall 
be  difFufed  among  the  lower  orders :  while  the  re- 
lations among  the  different  ftates,  which  have  depen- 
ded hitherto,  in  a  great  meafure,  on  the  "  whim, 
''  folly,  and  caprice,**  of  fingle  perfons,  will  be  grad- 
ually more  ar.d  more  regulated  by  the  general  inter- 
efts  of  the  individals,  who  compofe  them,  and  by 
the  popular  opinions  of  more  enlightened  times. 
Already,  during  the  very  fliort  interval  which  has 
elapled  iince  the  publication  of  Mr.  Hume's  writings, 
an  aftonifliing  change  has  taken  place  in  Europe. 
The  myfteries  of  courts  have  been  laid  open  ;  the 
influence  of  fecret  negociation  on  the  relative  fitua- 
tion  of  ftates  has  declined  ;  and  the  ftudies  of  thofe 
men  whofe  public  fpirit  or  ambition  devotes  them 
to  the  fervice  of  their  country,  have  been  diverted 
from  the  intrigues  of  cabinets,  and  the  details  of  the 
diplomatic  code,  to  the  liberal  and  manly  purfuits  of 
pohtical  philofophy. 


A 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  24^ 

CHAPTER  FIFTH. 
OF  THE  ASSOCIATION  OF  IDEAS. 

THE  fubject  on  which  I  am  now  to  enter,  natu- 
rally divides  itfelf  into  two  Parts.  The  firft,  relates 
to  the  influence  of  Affociation,  in  regulating  the 
fucceflion  of  our  thoughts  ;  the  Second,  to  its  influ- 
ence on  the  intelledual  powers,  and  on  the  moral 
character,  by  the  more  intimate  and  indiflbluble  com« 
binations  which  it  leads  us  to  form  in  infancy  and 
in  early  youth.  The  two  inquiries,  indeed  run  in- 
to each  other  ;  but  it  will  contribute  much  to  the 
order  of  our  fpeculations,  to  keep  the  foregoing  ar- 
rangement in  view. 

PART  FIRST. 

«F  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  ASSOCIATION  IN  REGaLATINCt? 
THE  SUCCESSION  OF  OUR  THOUGHTS, 

SECTION  I. 

General  Ob fervations  on  this  Part  of  our  Conftiiulion^  and 
on  the  Language  of  Philofophers  zvith  refped  to  it, 

THAT  one  thought  is  nften  fuggefted  to  the  mind 
by  another  ;  and  that  the  fight  of  an  external  objcd 
often  recals  former  occurrences,  and  revives  former 
feelings,  are  fadts  which  are  perfectly  familiar,  even 
to  thofe  who  are  the  leafl:  difpofed  to  fpeculate  con- 
cerning the  principles  of  their  nature.  In  paflii^g 
along  a  road  which  we  have  formerly  travelled  in 
the  company  of  a  friend,  the  particulars  of  the  con- 


246  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

verfation  in  which  we  were  then  engaged,  are  fre- 
quently fuggefted  to  us  by  the  objc(5ls  we  meet  with^ 
In  fuch  a  fcene,  we  recoiled  that  a  particular  lubjed: 
was  ftarted  ;  and,  in  palling  difierent  houfes,  and 
plantations,  and  rivers,  the  arguments  we  were  dif- 
cufling  when  we  lafl:  faw  them,  recur  fpontaneoufly 
to  the  memory.  The  connection  which  is  formed 
in  the  mind  between  the  words  of  a  language  and 
the  ideas  they  denote  ;  the  connection  which  is  for- 
med between  the  different  words  of  a  difcoarfe  we 
have  committed  to  tremory  ;  the  connexion  be- 
tween the  different  notes  of  a  piece  of  mufic  in  the 
mind  of  the  mufician,  are  all  obvious  inftances  of  the 
fame  general  law  of  our  nature. 

The  influence  of  perceptible  objeds  in  reviving 
former  thoughts  and  former  feelings,  is  more  par- 
ticularly remarkable.  After  time  has,  in  fome  de- 
gree, reconciled  us  to  the  death  of  a  friend,  how 
wonderfully  are  we  affected  the  firft  time  we  enter 
the  houfe  where  he  lived  !  Every  thing  we  fee  ;  the 
apartment  where  he  ftudied  ;  the  chair  upon  which 
he  fat,  recal  to  us  the  happinefs  we  have  enjoyed  to- 
gether ;  and  we  iliould  feel  it  a  fort  of  violation  of 
that  refpecl  we  owe  to  his  memory,  to  engage  in  any 
light  or  indiifefent  difcourfe  when  fuch  objeds  are 
before  us.  In  the  cafe,  too,  of  thofe  remarkable 
fcenes  which  interefl  the  curiofity,  from  the  memo- 
rable perfons  or  tranfaclions  which  we  have  been  ac- 
cuflomed  to  conned  with  them  in  the  courfe  of  our 
ftudies,  the  fancy  is  more  awakened  by  the  aclual 
perception  of  the  fcene  itfelf,  than  by  the  mere  con- 
ception or  imagination  of  it.  Hence  the  pleafure  we 
enjoy  in  vifiting  claflical  ground  ;  in  beholding  the 
retreats  whicli  infpired  the  genius  of  our  favorite 
authors,  or  the  fields  which  ha^e  been  dignified  by 
exertions  of  heroic  virtue.  How  feeble  are  the 
amotions  produced  by  the  livdlieft  conception  of 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  247 

modern  Italy,  to  what  the  poet  felt,  when,  amidit 

the  ruins  of  Rome, 

"  He  drew  th'  inspiring  breath  of  antient  arts, 

*' \nd  trod  the  sacred  walks 

«*  Where,  at  each  step,  imagination  burns  !*'*" 

The  well-known  efFed  of  a  particular  tune  on 
Swifs  regiments  when  at  a  diftance  from  home,  fur- 
nilhes  a  very  ftriking  illuftration  of  the  peculiar 
power  of  a  perception,  or  of  an  impreffion  on  the 
fenfes,  to  awaken  aifociated  thoughts  and  feehngs  ; 
and  numberlefs  fa^c^s  of  a  fimilar  nature  muft  have 
occurred  to  every  perfon  of  moderate  fenfibility,  in 
the  courfe  of  his  own  experience. 

"  Whilft  we  were  at  dinner,"  C^ays  Captain  King,) 
"  in  this  miferable  hut,  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
**  Awatfka  ;  the  guefts  of  a  people  with  whofe  exift- 
**  ence  we  had  before  been  fcarce  acquainted,  and 
«  at  the  extremity  of  the  habitable  globe  ;  a  folitary, 
"  half- worn  pewter  fpoon,  whofe  Ihape  was  familiar 
"  to  us,  attracted  our  attention  ;  and,  on  examina- 
*'  tion,  we  found  it  ftamped  on  the  back  with  the 
*^  word  London,  I  cannot  pafs  over  this  circumftance 
"  in  filence,  out  of  gratitude  for  tjie  many  pleaiant 
*'  thoughts,  the  anxious  hopes,  and  tender  remem- 
<*  brances,  it  excited  in  Us.  Thofe  who  have  expe- 
*'  rienced  the  efFecls  that  long  abfence,  and  extreme 
^'  diftance  from  their  native  country,  produce  on  the 
*'  mind,  will  readily  conceive  the  pleafure  fuch  a  irr- 
**  fling  incident  can  give." 

The  difference  between  the  effect  of  a  perception 
and  an  idea,  in  a«vakening  affociated  thoughts  and 
feelings,  is  finely  defcribed  in  the  introduction  to  the 
fifth  book  Dejinibus, 

"  We  agreed,"  (fays  Cicero,)  "  that  we  Ihould 
"  take  our  afternoon's  walk  in  the  academy,  as  at 

»  "  Quacunqae  ingredimur,"  (says  Cicero,  speaking  of  Atheiis.^ 
^  in  aliquam  liistoriam  vestigium  ponimus.'* 


248  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

**  that  time  of  the  day  it  was  a  place  where  there  was 
*'  no  refort  of  company.  Accordingly,  at  the  hour 
•«  appointed,  we  went  to  Pifo's.  We  paffed  the 
'*  time  in  cr.nverfing  on  different  matters  during  our 
*'  fhort  walk  from  the  double  gate,  till  we  came  to 
'*  the  academy,  that  juftly  celebrated  fpot  ;  which, 
*'  as  we  wifhed,  we  found  a  perfect  foiitude.'*  "  I 
*«  know  not,"  (faid  Pifo,)  *'  whether  it  be  a  natural 
*'  feeling,  or  an  illufion  of  the  imagination  founded 
*'  on  habit,  that  we  are  more  powerfully  affeded  by 
**  the  light  of  thofe  places  which  have  been  much 
*'  frequented  by  illuftrious  men,  than  when  we  either 
*'  liften  to  the  recital,  or  read  the  detail,  of  their  great 
''  adions.  At  this  moment,  I  feel  llrongly  the  emo- 
"  tion  which  I  fpeak  of.  I  fee  before  me,  the  per- 
^^  feci  form  of  Plato,  who  was  wont  to  difpute  in 
'•  this  very  place  *.  thefe  gardens  not  only  recai  him 
*^  to  my  memory,  but  prelent  his  very  perfon  tc>  my 
"  fenfes,  I  fancy  to  rnyfclf,  that  here  flood  Sptufip- 
*'  pus  ;  there  Xenocrates,  and  here,  on  this  bench, 
*'  fat  his  difcipie  Polemo.  To  me,  our  antient  fenate- 
"  houfe  leems  peopled  with  the  like  viionary  Forms ; 
"  for,  often,  when  I  enter  it,  the  ihades  of  Scipi(>,  of 
''  Cato,  and  of  Laslius,  and,  in  particular,  of  my  vcn- 
*'  arable  grandfather,  rife  to  my  imagination.  In 
*'  fliort,  fuch  is  the  effect  of  local  fituation  in  recall- 
''  ing  affociated  ideas  to  the  mind,  that  it  is  not 
*'  without  reafon,  fome  philofophers  have  founded 
"  on  this  principle  a  fpecies  of  artificial  memory." 

This  iiiiluence  of  perceptible  objects,  in  awaken- 
ing affociated  thoughts  and  affociated  feelings,  feems 
to  arife,  in  a  great  meafure,  from  their  permanent 
operation  as  exciting  or  iuggefting  caufes.  When  a 
train  of  thought  takes  its  rife  from  an  idea  or  con- 
ception, the  firff  idea  foon  difappears,  and  a  feries  of 
others  fucceeds,  which  are  gradually  lefs  and  lefs 
related  to  that  with  which  the  train  commenced  ; 
but,  in  the  cafe  of  perception,  the  exciting  caufe  re- 


OP  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  249 

mains  fteadily  before  us  ;  and  all  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  which  have  any  relation  to  it,  crowd  into  the 
mind  in  rapid  fucceffion  ;  ftrengthening  each  other's 
effects,  and  all  confpiring  in  the  fame  general  im- 
preffion. 

I  already  obferved,  that  the  connections  which 
exift  among  our  thoughts,  have  been  long  familiirly 
known  to  the  vulgar,  as  well  as  to  philof  jphers.  It 
is,  indeed,  only  of  late,  that  we  have  been  poffeffed 
of  an  appropriated  phrafe  to  exprefs  them  ;  but  that 
the  general  fad  is  not  a  recent  difcovery,  may  be  in- 
ferred from  many  of  the  common  maxims  of  pru- 
dence and  of  propriety,  which  have  plainly  been  lug- 
gefted  by  an  attention  to  this  part  of  our  conftitu- 
tion.  When  we  lay  it  down,  for  example,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  to  avoid  in  converfation  all  expreflions,  and 
all  topics  of  difcourfe,  v/hich  have  any  relation, 
however  remote,  to  ideas  of  an  unpleafant  nature, 
we  plainly  proceed  on  the  fuppofition  that  there  are 
certain  connexions  among  our  thoughts,  which 
have  an  influence  over  the  order  of  their  fucceffion. 
It  is  unneceflary  to  remark,  how  much  of  the  com- 
fort and  good-humor  of  focial  life  depends  on  an  at- 
tention to  this  confideration-  Such  attentions  are 
more  particularly  eflential  in  our  intercourfe  with 
men  of  the  world  ;  for  the  commerce  of  fociety  has 
a  wonderful  efFed  in  increaiing  the  quicknefs  and 
the  faciUty  with  which  we  affociate  all  ideas  which 
have  any  reference  to  life  and  manners  ;*  and,  of 

*  The  superiority  which  the  man  of  the  world  possesses  over 
the  recluse  student,  in  his  knowledge  of  mankind,  is  partly  the  re- 
sult of  this  quickness  and  facility  of  aJ-sociation.  Thoi^e  trifling 
circumstances  in  conversation  and  behavior,  which,  to  the  latter, 
convey  only  their  most  obvious  and  avowed  meaning,  lay  open  to 
the  former,  many  of  the  trains  of  thought  which  are  connected 
with  them,  and  frequentl)i  give  him  a  distinct  view  of  a  character, 
on  that  very  side  where  it  is  supposed  to  be  most  concealed  from 
his  observation. 

Hh 


250  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

confequence,  it  muft  render  the  fenfibllity  alive  to 
many  circumftances  which,  from  the  remotenefs  of 
their  relation  to  the  fituation  and  hiftory  of  the  par- 
ties, would  otherwife  have  pafTed  unnoticed. 

When  an  idea,  however,  is  thus  fuggefled  by  aflb- 
ciation,  it  produces  a  flighter  imprellion,  or,  at  leaft; 
it  produces  its  impreilion  more  gradually,  than  if  it 
were  prefented  more  diredly  and  immediately  to 
the  mind.  And  hence,  when  we  are  under  the  ne- 
ceffity  of  communicating  any  difagreeable  informa- 
tion to  another,  delicacy  leads  us,  inftead  of  mention- 
ing the  thing  itfelf,  to  mention  fomething  elfe  from 
which  our  meaning  may  be  underftood.  In  this 
manner,  we  prepare  our  hearers  for  the  unwelcome 
intelligence. 

The  distinction  between  grofs  and  delicate  flattery, 
is  founded  upon  the  fame  principle.  As  nothing  is 
more  ofFc-nlive  than  flattery  which  is  direct  and  point- 
ed, praife  is  confidered  as  happy  and  elegant,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  flightnefs  of  the  affociations  by  which 
it  is  conveyed. 

To  this  tendency  which  one  thought  has  to  intro- 
duce another,  phllofophers  have  given  the  name  of 
the  AJfociation  cf  ideas  ;  and,  as  I  would  not  wifli,  ex- 
cepting in  a  cafe  of  neceility,  to  depart  from  common 
language,  or  to  expofe  myfelf  to  the  charge  of  deli- 
vering old  doctrines  in  a  new  form,  I  fliall  continue 
to  make  ufe  of  the  lame  expreffion.  I  am  fenfible, 
indeed,  that  the  expreffion  is  by  no  means  unexcep- 
tionable ;  and  that,  if  it  be  ufed  (as  it  frequently  has 
been)  to  comprehend  thofe  laws  by  which  the  fuc- 
cellion  of  all  our  thoughts  and  of  all  our  mental  op- 
erations is  regulated,  the  word  idea  muft  be  under- 
flood  in  a  fenle  much  more  extenfive  than  it  is  com- 
monly employed  in.  It  is  very  juftly  remarked  by 
Dr.  Reid,  that  "  memory,  judgment,  reafoning, 
*^  paffions,  afiedlions,  and  purpofes  ;  in  a  word,  every 
*'  operation  of  the  niind,  excepting  thofe  of  fenfe,  is 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  251" 

^^  excited  occafionally^in  the  train  of  our  thoughts  : 
"  fo  that,  if  we  make  the  train  of  our  thoughts  to  be 
*'  only  a  train  of  ideas,  the  word  idea  muft  be  under- 
"  ftood  to  denote  all  thefe  operations."  In  contin- 
uing,  therefore,  to  employ,  upon  this  fubjecl,  that 
language,  which  has  been  confecrated  by  the  practice 
of  our  bell  philofophical  wTiters  in  England,  I  would 
not  be  underftood  to  difpute  the  advantages  which 
might  be  derived  from  the  introduction  of  a  new 
phrafe,  more  precife  and  more  applicable  to  the 
fad. 

The  ingenious  author  Vv'hom  I  lad  quoted,  feems 
to  think  that  the  affocialion  of  ideas  has  no  claim  to  be 
conlidered  as  an  original  principle,  or  as  an  ultimate 
fact  in  our  nature.  "  I  believe,"  (fays  he,)  "  that 
"  the  original  principles  of  the  mind,  of  which  we 
*'  can  give  no  account,  but  that  fuch  is  our  conftitu- 
''  tion,  are  more  in  number  than  is  commonly 
"  thought.  But  we  ought  not  to  multiply  them 
*«  without  neceffity.  That  trains  of  thinking,  which, 
"  by  frequent  repetition,  have  become  familiar^ 
*'  ftiould  fpontaneoufly  offer  themfelves  to  our  fancy, 
"  feems  to  require  no  other  original  quality  but  the" 
"  power  of  habit." 

With  this  obfervation  I  cannot  agree  ;  becaufe  I 
think  it  more  philofophical  to  rcfolve  the  power  of 
habit  into  the  affociation  of  ideas,  than  to  refolve  the 
affociation  of  ideas  into  habit. 

The  word  habit,  in  the  fenfe  in  which  it  is  com- 
monly employed,  expreffes  that  facility  which  the 
mind  acquires,  in  all  its  exertions,  both  animr.l  and 
intellectual,  in  confequence  of  practice.  We  apply  it 
to  the  dexterity  of  the  workman  ;  to  the  extempo- 
rary fluency  of  the  orator  ;  to  the  rapidity  of  the 
arithmetical  accountant.  That  this  facility  is  the 
effect  of  practice,  we  know  from  experience  to  be  a 
fad: :  but  it  does  not  feem  to  be  an  ultimate  fact, 
nor  incapable  of  analyfis. 


252  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

In  the  Effay  on  Attention,  I  ihewed  that  the  efFe6ls 
of  practice  are  produced  partly  on  the  body,  and 
partly  on  the  mind.  The  mufcles  which  we  employ 
in  mechanical  operations,  become  ftronger,  and  be- 
come more  obedient  to  the  will.  This  is  a  fad,  of 
which  it  is  probable  that  philofophy  will  never  be 
able  to  give  any  explanation. 

But  even  in  mechanical  operations,  the  effeds  of 
practice  are  produced  partly  on  the  mind  ;  and,  as 
far  as  this  is  the  cafe,  they  are  refolvable  into  what 
philofopliers  call,  the  ajfociation  of  ideas  ;  or  into  that 
general  fact,  which  Dr.  Reid  himfelf  has  ftated,  "  that 
*'  trains  of  thinking,  which,  by  frequent  repetition, 
*'  have  become  familiar,  fpontaneoufly  offer  them- 
"  felves  to  the  mind."  In  the  cafe  of  habits  which 
are  purely  intellectual,  the  eifeds  of  pradice  refolve 
themfelves  completely  into  this  principle  :  and  it  ap- 
pears to  me  more  precife  and  more  fatisfad:ory,  to 
ilate  the  principle  itfelf  as  a  law  of  our  conftitution, 
than  to  flur  it  over  under  the  concife  appellation  of 
habit^  which  we  apply  in  comnion  to  mind  and  to 
body. 

1  he  tendency  in  the  human  mind  to  afTociate  or 
connect  its  thoughts  together,  is  fometimes  called 
(but  very  improperly)  the  imagination.  Between 
thefe  two  parts  of  our  conftitution,  there  is  indeed 
a  very  intimate  relation  ;  and  it  is  probably  owing 
to  this  relation,  that  they  have  been  fo  generally  con- 
founded under  the  fame  name.  "When  the  mind  is 
occupied  about  abfent  objects  of  fenfe,  (which,  I  be- 
lieve, it  is  habitually  in  the  great  majority  of  man- 
kind,) its  train  of  thought  is  merely  a  feries  of  con- 
ceptions ;  or,  in  common  language,  of  imaginations.* 
In  the  cafcj  too,  of  poetical  imagination,  it  is  the  af- 

*  Accordingly,  Hobbes  calls  the  train  of  thought  in  the  mil 
"  Consequentia  sive  series  imaginationum.'*  *'  Per  seriem  imaj 
"  nationum  intelligo  successionecn  unius  cogitationis  ad  aliam." 
J^EviATHAN,  cap.  iii. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  253 

fociation  of  ideas  that  fupplies  the  materials  out  of 
which  its  combinations  are  formed  ;  and  when  fuch 
an  imaginary  combination  is  become  familiar  to  the 
mind,  it  is  the  aflbciation  of  ideas  that  connects  its 
different  parts  together,  and  unites  them  into  one 
whole.  The  aflbciation  of  ideas,  therefore,  although 
perfedlly  diftind:  from  the  power  of  im.agination,  is 
immediately  and  eflentially  fubfervient  to  all  its  ex- 
ertions. 

The  laft  obfervation  feems  to  me  to  point  out,  al- 
fo,  the  circumftance  which  has  led  the  greater  part 
of  Engliih  writers,  to  ufe  the  words  Imagination 
and  Fancy  as  fynonymous.  It  is  obvious  that  a  cre- 
ative imagination,  when  a  perfon  poflefles  it  fo  ha- 
bitually that  it  may  be  regarded  as  forming  one  of 
the  characleriftics  of  his  genius,  implies  a  power  of 
fummoning  up,  at  pleafure,  a  particular  cUfs  of 
ideas  ;  and  of  ideas  related  to  each  other  in  a  par-* 
ticular  manner  ;  which  power  can  be  the  refult  on^ 
ly,  of  certain  habits  of  aflbciation,  which  the  indi- 
vidual has  acquired.  It  is  to  this  power  of  the 
mindjwhich  is  evidently  a  particular  turn  of  thought, 
and  not  one  of  the  common  principles  of  our  nature, 
that  our  befl:  writers  (fo  for  as  I  am  able  to  judge) 
refer,  in  general,  when  ihey  make  ufe  of  the  word 
fancy  :  I  fay,  in  general ;  for  in  difquifitions  rf  this 
fort,  in  which  the  beft  writers  are  feldom  precife  and 
fteady  in  the  employment  of  words,  it  is  only  to 
their  prevailing  practice  that  we  can  appeal  as  an  au-^ 
thority.  What  the  particular  relations  are,  by 
which  thofe  ideas  are  connected  that  are  fubfervi- 
ent to  poetical  imagination,  I  fhall  not  enquire  at 
prefent.  I  think  they  are  chiefly  thofe  of  refem- 
blance  and  analogy.  But  whatever  they  may  be, 
the  power  of  fummoning  up  at  pleafure  the  ideas  fo 
related,  as  it  is  the  ground-work  of  poetical  genius, 
is  of  fufEcient  importance  in  the  human  conftitu- 
tion  to  deferve  an  appropriated  name  \  and,  for  this 


2^4  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

purpofe,  the  word  fancy  would  appear  to  be  the 
moft  convenient  that  our  language  affords. 

Dr  Rcid  has  fomewhere  obfierved,  that  "  the  part 
"  of  our  conftitution  on  which  the  aflociation  of 
*'  ideas  depends,  was  called,  by  the  older  Englifh 
"  writers, /tf  7^/^  or  fancy  •**  an  ufe  of  the  word,  wc 
may  remark,  which  coincides,  in  many  inftances, 
with  that  which  I  propofe.to  make  of  it.  It  differs 
from  it  only  inthis,that  thefe  writers  applied  it  to  the 
affociation  of  ideas  in  general,  whereas  I  reftricl  its 
application  to  that  habit  of  affociation,  which  is  fub- 
fervient  to  poetical  imagination. 

According  to  the  explanation,  which  has  now- 
been  given  of  the  word  Fancy,  the  office  of  this  pow- 
er is  to  colled:  materials  for  the  Imagination ;  and 
therefore  the  latter  power  prefuppofes  the  former, 
while  the  former  does  not  neceffarily  fuppofe  the 
latter.  A  man  whole  habits  of  affociation  prefent  to 
him,  for  illuftrating  or  embellifhing  a  fubjecl,  a  num- 
ber of  refembling  or  of  analogous  ideas,  we  call  a 
man  of  fancy  ;  but  for  an  effort  of  imagination,  va- 
rious other  powers  are  neceffary,  particularly  the 
powers  of  tafle  and  of  judgment  ;  without  which, 
we  can  hope  to  produce  nothing  that  will  be  a  fcmrce 
of  pleafure  to  others.  It  is  the  power  of  fancy  which 
fupplies  the  poet  with  metaphorical  language,  and 
with  all  the  analogies  which  are  the  foundation  of 
his  allufions  ;  but  it  is  the  power  of  imagination  that 
creates  the  complex  fcenes  he  defcribes,  and  the  fic- 
titious charaders  he  delineates.  To  fancy,  we  ap- 
ply the  epithets  of  rich  or  luxuriant ;  to  imagina- 
tion, thofe  of  beautiful  or  fublime. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  255 

SECTION  II. 
Of  the  principles  of  ajfociation  among  our  idem, 

THE  facls  which  I  flated  in  the  former  feclion,  to 
illuftrate  the  tendency  of  a  perception,  or  of  an 
idea,  to  fuggeft  ideas  related  to  it,  are  io  obvious  as 
to  be  matter  of  common  remark.  But  the  relations 
which  connedl  all  our  thoughts  together,  and  the 
laws  which  regulate  their  fucceflloup  were  but  little 
attended  to  before  the  publication  of  Mr.  Hume's 
writings. 

It  is  well  known  to  thofe  who  are  in  the  leaft  con-- 
verfant  with  the  prefent  ftate  of  metaphyiical  fci- 
ence,  that  this  eminent  writer  has  attempted  to  re- 
duce all  the  principles  of  affociation  among  our  ideas 
to  three  :  Refemblance,  Contiguity  in  time  and 
place,  and  Caufe  and  EfFed.  The  attempt  was  great, 
and  worthy  of  his  ^nnius  ;  but  it  has  been  Ihewn  by 
feveral  writers  lince  his  time,*  that  his  enumeration 
is  not  only  incomplete,  but  that  it  is  even  indiftind, 
fo  far  as  it  goes. 

*  See  in  particular,  Lord  Kaincies's  Elements  of  Criticism,  and 
Dr.  Gerard's  Essay  on  Genius.  See  also  Dr.  Campbell's  Philoso- 
phy of  Rhetoric,  vol.  i.  p.  197. 

It  is  observed  by  Dr.  Beattie,  that  something  like  an  attempt  to 
enumerate  the  laws  of  association  is  to  be  found  in  Aristotle  ;  who, 
in  speaking  of  Recollection,  insinuates,  with  his  usual  brevity, 
that"  the  relations,  by  which  we  are  led  from  one  thought  toan- 
"  other,  in  tracing  out,  or  hunting  ofter^^  (as  he  calls  it,)  "  any  par- 
"  ticular  thought  which  does  not  immediately  occur,  are  chiefly 
"  three  ;  Resemblance,  Contrariety,  and  Contiguity." 

See   Drntrtathm^  Mora:  and  CriUcal,]^.  9.     Also  p.  145. 

The  passage  to  which  Dr.  Beattie  refers,  is  as  follows  : 

'Ora.v  uv  avj5^'f<.v>)0'xa,7>(.«.^flt,  KivuyLi^oc,  rojv  ttporffoji  rtva  Ktm<7fUf.,  tois 
■a*  KtvYi^uiMtv,  (xs^  yiv  bkuvt)  siu/^s.      Alo  xxt  TO  s^s^ns  ^psvofjiey  totiaravres 

rnro  yivtrxi  -n  ava^nKris. 

Ari^tot.  de  MeniQr.  et  Rem'miic,  vol.  i.  p.  681.  Edit.  Lu  Val. 


^56  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  not  neceffary  for  my  prefent  purpofe,  that  I 
fliould  enter  into  a  critical  examination  of  this  part 
of  Mr.  Hume's  fyftem  ;  or  that  I  Ihould  attempt  to 
fpecify  thofe  principles  of  aifociation  which  he  has 
omitted.  Indeed  it  does  not  feem  to  me,  that  the 
problem  admits  of  a  fatisfaclory  folution  ;  for  there 
is  no  poflible  relation  among  the  obje<^s  of  our 
knowledge,  which  may  not  ferve  to  connect  them 
together  in  the  mind  ;  and,  therefore,  although  one 
enumeration  may  be  more  comprehenfive  than  an- 
other, a  perfectly  complete  enumeration  is  fcarcely 
to  be  expected. 

Nor  is  it  merely  in  confequence  of  the  relations 
among  things,  that  our  notions  of  them  are  alTo- 
ciated  :  they  are  frequently  coupled  together  by 
means  of  relations  among  the  words  which  denote 
them  ;  fuch  as  a  fimilarity  of  found,  or  other  cir- 
cumftances  ftill  more  trifling.  The  alliteration  which 
is  fo  common  in  poetry,  and  in4)roverbial  fayings, 
feems  to  arife,  partly  at  leaft,  from  aflbciations  of 
ideas  founded  on  the  accidental  circumftance,  of  the 
two  words  which  exprefs  them  beginning  with  the 
fame  letter. 

"  But  thousands  die,  without  or  this  or  that, 
^^  Die ;  and  endow  a  College,  or  a  Cat.'* 

Pope's  Ep.  to  Lord  Batiiurst. 

''•  Ward  tried,  on  Puppies,  and  the  poor,  his  drop." 

Id.  Imitat.  of  Horace. 

^'  Puffd,  powders,  patches  ;  Bibles,  billets-doux-" 

Rape  of  the  Lock, 

This  indeed  pleafes  only  on  flight  occafions,  when  it 
may  be  fuppofed  that  the  mind  is  in  fome  degree  play- 
ful, and  under  the  influence  of  thofe  principles  of 
aflbciation  which  commonly  take  place  when  we  are 
carelefs  and  difengaged.  Every  perfon  mufl:  be  of- 
fended with  the  fecund  line  of  the  following  couplet. 


©F  THE  HUMAN  MiND.  25? 

which  forms  part  of  a  very    fublime  defcription  of 
the  Divine  power  : 

"  Breathes  in  our  soul,  informs  our  mortal  part, 
"  As  full ,  as  perfect,  in  a  Hair  as  Heart." 

Essay  on  Man,  Ep.  i. 

To  thefe  obfervations,  it  may  be  addedsthat  things 
which  have  no  known  relation  to  each  other  are  of- 
ten aflbciated,  in  confequence  of  their  producing 
fimilar  efleds  on  the  mind.  Some  of  the  fineft  po- 
etical allufions  are  founded  on  this  principle  ;  and 
occordingly,if  the  reader  is  not  poffefled  of  fenfibility 
congenial  to  that  of  the  poet,  he  will  be  apt  to  over- 
look their  meaning,  or  to  cenfure  them  as  abfurdJ 
To  fuch  a  critic  it  would  not  be  eafy  to  vindicate  the^ 
beauty  of  the  following  flanza,  in  an  Ode  addreffed 
to  a  Lady  by   the  Author  of  the  Sea/ens. 

Oh  thou,  whose  tender,  serious  eye 

Expressive  speaks  the  soul  I  love  ; 
The  gentle  azure  of  the  sky, 

The  pensive  shadows  of  the  grove. 

I  have  already  faid,  that  the  view  of  the  fubject 
which  I  propofe  to  take,  does  not  require  a  complete 
enumeration  of  our  principles  of  affociation.  There 
is,  however,  an  important  diftindion  among  them, 
to  which  I  (hall  have  occafion  frequently  to  refer  ; 
and  which,  as  far  as  I  know,  has  not  hitherto  attract- 
ed the  notice  of  philofophers.  The  relations  up- 
on which  fome  of  them  are  founded,  are  perfectly 
obvious  to  the  mind  ;  thofe  which  are  the  founda- 
tion of  others,  are  difcovered  only  in  confequence  of 
particular  efforts  of  attention.  Of  the  former  kind, 
are  the  relations  of  Relemblance  and  Analogy,  of 
Contrariety,  of  Vicinity  in  time  and  place,  and  thofe 
which  arise  from  accidental  coincidences  in  the  found 
of  different  words.  Thefe,  in  general,  connedl  our 
thoughts  together,  when  they  are  fuffered  to  take 
I  I 


25S  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

their  natural  courfe,  and  when  we  are  confcioiis  of 
little  orno  adive  exertion.  Of  the  latter  kind,  are 
the  relations  of  C  lufe  and  Eifed:,  of  Means  and  End, 
of  Pre  mi  fes  and  Condudon  ;  and  thofe  others,  which- 
regulate  the  train  of  thought  in  the  mind  of  th^  phi- 
lofopher,  when  he  is  engaged  in  a  particular  invefti- 
gation. 

It  is  owing  to  this  diftinclion,  that  tranfitions,. 
which  would  be  highly  offenfive  in  philofophical 
writings,  are  the  moll:  plealing  of  any  in  poetry.  In 
the  former  fpecies  of  compofition,  we  exped  to  fee 
an  author  lay  down  a  diftinct  plan  or  method,  and  ob- 
ferveit  rigoroufly  ;  without  allowing  hirafelf  to  ram- 
ble into  digrefiions,  fuggefted  by  the  accidental  ideas 
or  expreflions  which  may  occur  to  bjm  in  his  prog- 
refs*  In  that  ftate  of  mind  in  which  poetry  is  read, 
fuch  digrefiions  are  not  only  agreeable,  but  neceffary 
totheeffed;  and  an  arrangement  founded  on  the 
fpontaneous  and  feemingly  cafual  order  of  our 
thoughts,  pleafes  more  than  one  fuggefted  by  an  ac- 
curate analyfis  of  the  fubjed:. 

How  a  jfurd  would  the  long  digreffion  in  praife 
of  Liduftry,  in  Thompfon's  Autumn,  appear,  if  it 
occurred  in  a  profe  effay  ! — a  digreflion,  however^ 
which,  in  that  beautiful  poem,  arifes  naturally  and 
infenlibly  from  the  view  of  a  luxuriant  harveft  ;  and 
which  as  naturally  leads  the  Poet  back  to  the  points 
where  his  excurfiou  began  : 

All  is  the  gift  of  Industry  ;  whatever 
Exalts,  embellishes,  and  renders  life 
Delightful.     Pensive  Winter,  cheer'd  bv  him, 
Sits  at  the  social  fire,  and  happy  hears 
Th'  excluded  tempest  idly  rave  abng ; 
His  harden'd  fingers  deck  the  gaudy  Spring  ; 
Without  him  Summer  were  an  arid  waste  ; 
Nor  to  th'  Autumnal  months  could  thus  transmit 
Those  full,  mature,  immeasurable  stores, 
That  waving  round,  recal  my  wandering  Song. 


&V  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  25^ 

In  Goldfmith's  Traveller,  the  tranfitions  are  ma- 
aged  with  confumniate  skill  ;  and  yet,  how  differ- 
ent from  that  logical  method  which  would  be  f uited 
to  a  philofophical  difcourfe  on  the  ftate  of  fociety  in 
the  different  parts  of  Europe  !  Some  of  the  fineft  are 
fuggefted  by  the  afTociating  principle  of  Contrafl. 
Thus,  after  defcribing  the  effeminate  and  debaied 
Romans,  the  Poet  proceeds  to  the  Swifs  : 

My  soul,  turn  from  them-— turn  we  to  survey 
Where  rougher  climes  a  nobler  race  display. 

And,  after  painting  fome  defeds  in  the  manners  of 
this  gallant  but  unrefined  people,  his  thoughts  are 
led  to  thofe  of  the  French  : 

To  kinder  skies,  where  gentler  manners  reign, 
I  turn — and  France  displays  her  bright  domain. 

The  tranfition  which  occurs  in  the  following  lines, 
feems  to  be  fuggefted  by  the  accidental  mention  of 
a  word  .;  and  is  certainly  one  of  the  happieft  in  cmr 
language. 

Heavens  !  how  unlike  their  Belgic  Sires  of  old  ! 
Rough,  poor,  content,  ungovernably  bold  ; 
War  in  each  breast,  and  freedom  on  each  brow, 
How  much  unlike  the  Sons  of  Britain  now  1 
— Fired  at  the  sound,  my  Genius  spreads  her  wing. 
And  flies,  where  Biitain  courts  the  western  spring. 

Numherlefs  illuilrations  of  the  fame  remark  niight 
be  colleded  from  the  ancient  Poets,  more  particu- 
larly from  the  Georgics  of  Virgil,  where  the  fingu- 
iar  felicity  of  the  tranfitions  has  attra<5led  the  notice 
even  of  thofe,  who 'iiave  been  theleail  dilpofed  to  in- 
dulge themfelves  in  philofophical  refinements  con- 
cerning the  principles  of  Critic ifm.  A  celebrated 
inftance  of  this  kind  occurs  in  the  end  of  the  firft 
Book  : — the  confideration  of  the  weather  and  of  its 
xiommon  prognoftics  leading  the  fancy,  in  the  firft 


260  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

place,  to  thofe  more  extraordinary  phenomena 
which,  according  to  the  luperftirious  belief  of  the 
vulgar,  are  the  forerunners  of  political  Revolutions ; 
and,  afterwards,  to  the  death  of  Caefar,  and  the  bat- 
tles ofPharfalia  andPhilippi.  The  manner  in  which 
the  Poet  returns  to  his  original  fubje^t,  difplays  that 
exquifite  art  which  is  to  be  derived  only  from  the 
diligent  and  enlightened  ftudy  of  nature. 

Scilicet  et  tempus  veniet,  cum  finibus  illis 
i-\gricohi,  incur  vo  terram  niolitus  aratro, 
Exe^a  invenit't  scaNi  a  ruhigine   pila  j 
Aut  gravibus  rastris  galeas  pulsabit  inanes, 
Gtandiaque  effossis  mirabitur  ossa  sepulcbris. 

The  facility  with  which  ideas  are  affociated  in  the 
mind,  is  very  different  in  different  individuals  :  a 
circumflance  which,  as  I  Ihall  afterwards  Ihew,  lays 
the  foundation  of  remarkable  varieties  among  men, 
both  in  refpecf  of  genius  and  of  charader.  I  am 
inclined,  too,  to  think  that  in  the  other  fex  (proba-- 
bly  in  confequence  of  early  education)  ideas  are  more 
eafily  affociated  together,  than  in  the  minds  of  men. 
Hence  the  livelinefs  of  their  fancy,  and  the  fuperi- 
ority  they  pofTefs  in  epiflolary  writing,  and  in  thofe 
kinds  of  poetry,  in  which  the  principal  recommenda- 
tions are,  eafe  of  thought  and  exprefTion.  Hence, 
too,  the  facility  with  which  tkey  contnici:  or  lofe 
habits,  and  accommodate  their  minds  to  new  fitua- 
tions  ;  and,  I  may  add,  the  dilpofition  they  have  to 
that  fpecies  of  fuperflition  v  hich  is  founded  on  acci- 
dental combinations  of  circumflances.  The  influ- 
ence which  this  facility  of  affociation  has  on  the  pow- 
er of  Tafte,  Ihall  be  afterwards  ccnfidcrcd. 


OF  THE  HUMAN    MIND.  26l 


SECTION  III. 


0/tJje  Power  which  the  Mind  has  over  the  Train  of  its 

Thoughts, 

BY  means  of  the  Affociation  of  Ideas,  a  conftant 
current  of  thoughts,  if  I  may  uie  the  expreilion,  is 
made  to  pafs  through  the  mind  while  we  are  awake. 
Sometimes  the  current  is  interrupted,  and  the 
thoughts  diverted  into  a  new  channel,  in  confe- 
quence  of  the  ideas  fuggefted  by  other  men,  or  of 
the  objects  of  perception  with  which  we  are  iur- 
rounded.  So  completely,  however,  is  the  mind  in 
this  particular  fubje^ted  to  phyfical  laws,  that  it  has 
been  juftly  obferved,*  we  cannot,  by  an  eifort  of  our 
will,  call  up  any  one  thought  ;  and  that  the  train  of 
our  ideas  depends  on  cauies  which  operate  in  a  man- 
ner inexplicable  by  us. 

This  obfervation,  although  it  has  been  cenfured 
as  paradoxical,  is  almoft  felt-evident ;  for,  to  call  up 
a  particular  thought,  fuppofes  it  to  be  already  in  the 
mind.  As  I  fliall  have  frequent  occafion,  however, 
to  refer  to  the  obfervation  afterwards,  I  (h.ill  endea- 
vor to  obviate  the  only  objection  which,  1  think,  can 
reafonably  be  urged  againft  it ;  and  which  is  found- 
ed on  that  operation  of  the  mind,  which  is  common- 
ly called  recollection  or  intentional  memory. 

It  is  evident,  that,  before  we  attempt  to  recolle(5t 
the  particular  circumflances  of  any  event,  that  event 
in  general  muft  have  been  an  object  of  our  attention. 
We  remember  the  outlines  of  the  ftory,  but  cannot 
at  hrft  give  a  complete  account  of  it.  If  we  wifli  to 
recal  thefe  circumftar.ces,  there  are  only  two  ways  in 
which  we  can  proceed.     We  mull  either  form  dif- 

*  By  Lord  Kaimes,  and  others. 


262  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ferent  fuppofitions,  and  then  confider  which  of  thefe 
tallies  beft  with  the  other  circumftances  of  the  event ; 
or,  by  revolving  in  our  mind  the  circun)ftances  we 
remember,  we  muft  endeavor  to  excite  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  other  circumftances  affociated  with  them. 
The  firft  of  thefe  procefTes  is,  properly  fpeaking,  an 
inference  of  reafon,  and  plainly  furniflies  no  excep- 
tion  to  the  doctrine  already  delivered.  We  have  an 
inftance  of  the  other  mode  of  recollection,  when  we, 
are  at  ^  lofs  for  the  beginning  of  a  fentence  in  recit- 
ing a  compcjfition  that  we  do  not  perfe<51:ly  remem- 
ber ;  in  which  cafe  we  naturally  repeat  over,  two  or 
three  times,  the  concluding  words  of  the  preceding 
fentence,  in  order  to  call  up  the  other  words  which 
aifed  to  be  connected  with  them  in  the  memory.  In 
this  inftance,  it  is  evident,  that  the  circumftances  we 
delire  to  remember,  are  not  recalled  to  the  mind  in 
immediate  confequence  of  an  exertion  of  volitionj^ 
but  are  fuggelted  by  fome  other  circumftances  with 
■which  they  are  connected,  independently  of  our  will, 
by  the  laws  of  our  conftitution. 

NoCwithftanding,  however,  the  immediate  depen- 
dence of  the  train  of  our  thoughts  on  the  laws  of 
aflt)ciation,  it  muft  not  be  imagined  that  the  will  pof- 
fefles  no  influence  over  it.  This  influence,  indeed, 
is  not  exercifed  directly  and  immediately,  as  we  are 
apt  to  iuppofe,  on  a  fuperficial  view  of  the  fubject : 
but  it  is,  neverthelefs,  very  extenfive  in  its  effects  5 
and  the  different  degrees  in  which  it  is  pofleffed  by 
/iifferent  individuals,  conftitute  fome  of  the  moft 
ftriking  inequalities  among  men,  in  point  of  intellec- 
tual capacity. 

Of  the  powers  which  the  mind  poflefles  over  the 
train  of  its  thoughts,  the  moft  obvious  is  its  power 
of  Angling  out  any  one  of  them  at  pleafure  ;  of  de- 
taining it ;  and  of  making  it  a  particular  objedt  of 
attention.  By  doing  fo,  we  not  only  flop  the  fuc- 
cfiflion  that  would  otherwife  take  place  ;  but  in  coiu 


O^  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  ^QS- 

ieqii^nce  of  our  bringing  to  view  the  lefs  obvious  re- 
lations among  our  ideas,  we  freq^uently  divert  the 
current  of  our  thoughts  into  a  new  channel.  If,  for 
example,  when  I  am  indolent  and  inactive,  the  name 
of  Sir  Ifaac  Newton  accidentally  occur  to  me,  it  wili 
perhaps  fuggeft,  one  after  another,  the  names  of 
fome  other  eminent  mathematicians  and  aftrono- 
mers,  or  of  fome  of  his  illuftrious  contemporaries  and 
friends  :  and  a  number  of  them  may  pafs  in  review 
before  me,  without  engaging  my  curiofity  in  any 
conGderable  degree.  In  a  different  ftate  of  mind, 
the  name  of  Newton  will  lead  my  thoughts  to  the 
principal  incidents  of  his  life,  and  the  more  ftriking 
features  of  his  character  :  or,  if  my  mind  be  ardent 
and  vigorous,  will  lead  my  attention  to  the  fublime 
difcoveries  he  made  ;  and  gradually  engage  me  in 
fome  philofophical  inveftigation.  To  every  objed:, 
there  are  others  which  bear  obvious  and  ftriking  re- 
lations ;  and  others^  alfo,  whofe  relation  to  it  does 
not  readily  occur  to  us,  unlefs  we  dwell  upon  it  for 
fomt:  time,  and  place  it  before  us  in  different  points 
of  view. 

But  the  principal  power  we  pofTefs  over  the  train 
of  -mr  ideas,  is  founded  on  the  influence  which  our 
habits  of  thinking  have  on  the  laws  of  Afibciation  ^ 
an  influence  which  is  fo  great,  that  we  may  often 
form  a  pretty  fhrewd  judgment  concerning  a  man's 
prevailing  turn  of  thought,  from  the  tranfitions  he 
makes  in  converfation  or  in  writing.  It  is  well  known, 
too,  that  by  means  of  habit,  a  particular  aflbeiating 
principle  may  be  ftrengthened  to  fuch  a  degree,  as 
to  give  us  a  command  of  all  the  different  ideas  in 
our  mind,  which  have  a  certain  relation  to  each  oth- 
er ;  fo  that  when  any  one  of  the  clafs  occurs  to  us 
we  have  almoft  a  certainty  that  it  will  fuggeft  the 
reft.  What  confidence  in  his  own  powers  muft  a 
fpeaker  polTefs,  wiien  he  rites  without  premeditation, 
in  a  popular  aiTembiy,  to  amufe  his  audience  with  a 


^64  ELEMENTS  OF  TttE  PHILOSOPHY 

lively  or  an  humorous  fpeech  !  Such  a  confHcnce,  it 
is  evident,  can  only  ariie  from  a  long  experience  of 
the  flrength  of  particular  affociating  principles. 

To  how  great  a  degree  this  part  ot  our  conlHtu- 
tion  may  be  influenced  by  habit,  appears  from  facls 
which  are  famiUar  to  every  one.    A  man  who  has  an 
ambition  to  become  a  punfter,  feldom  or  never  fails 
in  the  attainment  of  his  object ;  that  is,  he  feldom  or 
never  fails  in  acquiring  a  power  which  other  men  have 
not, of  fummoningup,on  a  particular  ^ccafion, a  num. 
ber  of  words  different  from  each  other  in  meaning,  & 
refembling  each  other,  more  or  lefs,  in  found.     I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  even  genuine  wit  is  a  habit  ac- 
quired in  a  limilar  way  ;  and  that,  although  forhe 
individuals  may,  from  natural  conftitution,  be  more 
fitted  than  others  to  acquire  this  habit ;  it  is  found- 
ed in  every  cafe  on  a  peculiarly  ftrong  aiTociation 
among  certain  claffes  of  our  ideas,  which  gives  the 
perfon  who  poffeffes  it,  a  cdrhmand  over  thofe  ideas 
which  is  denied  to  ordinary  men^     But  there  is  no 
inflance  in  which  the  effecf  of  habits  of  aiTociation  is 
more  remarkable,  than  in  thofe  men  who  poffefs  a 
facility  of  rhyming.     That  a  man  fliould  be  able  to 
exprefs  his  thoughts  perfpicuoufly  and  elegantly,  un- 
der the  reftraints  which  rhyme  impofes,  would  ap- 
pear to  be  incredible,  if  we  did  not  know  it  to  bo 
fa^.     Such  a  pov^;er  implies  a  wonderful  command 
both  of  ideas  and  of  expreflbns ;  and  yet  daily  expe- 
rience fhews,  that  it  may  be  gained  v/ith  very  little 
pradice.     Pope  tells  us  with  refpefl  to  himfelf,  that 
he  could  exprefs  himself  not  only  more  cbncifely, 
but  more  eaiily,  in  rhyme  than  in  profe* 

*  *'  When  habit  is  OKce  gained,  nothing  so  easy  as  practice, 
"  Cicero  writes,  that  Antipater  the  Sidonian  could  pour  forth 
"  hexameters  extempore,-  and  that,  whenev^er  he  chose  to  versify, 
*'  words  followed  him  of  course.  We  may  add  to  Ant»p:itrr,  the 
*^  antient  rhapscdists  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  modern  Jinpioviaa-tori 
*<  of  the  Italian*."  Ha^^s'b  PhU.  hiq.  109,  1  l.Oi'  ' 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  265 

Nor  IS  it  only  in  thefe  trifling  accomplifliments 
that  we  may  trace  the  influence  of  habits  of  afTocia- 
tion.  In  every  inftance  ot  invention,  either  in  the 
fine  arts,  in  the  mechanical  arts,  or  in  the  fciences, 
there  is  fome  new  idea,  or  forae  new,  combination 
of  ideas,  brought  to  light  by  the  inventor.  This, 
undoubtedly,  may  often  happen  in  a  wa/  which  he 
is  unable  to  explain  ;  that  is,  his  invention  may  be 
fuggefted  to  him  by  fome  lucky  thought,  the  origin 
of  which  he  is  unable  to  trace.  But  when  a  man 
poflefles  an  habitual  fertility  of  invention  in  any  par- 
ticular art  or  fcience,  and  can  rely,  with  confidence, 
on  his  inventive  powers,  whenever  he  is  called  upon 
to  exert  them,  he  mufl  have  acquired,  by  previous 
habits  of  fludy,  a  command  over  certain  clafTes  of 
his  ideas,  which  enables  him,  at  pleafure,  to  bring 
them  under  his  review.  The  illuftration  of  thele 
fubjedls  may  throw  light  on  fome  procefTes  of  the 
mind,  which  are  not  in  general  well  underflood  : 
and  I  (hall,  accordingly,  in  the  following  Sedion,  of- 
fer a  few  hints  with  refped  to  thofe  habits  of  affo- 
ciation  which  are  the  foundation  of  wit  ;  of  the 
<tf>wer  of  rhyming  ;  of  poetical  fancy  j  and  of  in- 
vention in  matters  of  fcience. 


SECTION  IV. 
Itluji rations  of  the  Do6lrine  ftated  in  the -preceding  Sedion, 

I.  Of  Wit. 

ACCORDING  to  Locke,  Wit  confifls  "  in  the 
"  aflfemblige  of  ideas  ;  and  putting  thofe  together 
*'  with  quicknefs  and  variety,  wherein  can  be  found 

any  refemblance  or  congruity."*     I  would  add  to 


cc 


*  Essp/  on  Htiman  Understanding,  book  ii.  chap.  1 1 

Kk 


266  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

this  definition,  (rather  by  way  of  explanation  thaii 
aniendment,)  that  Wit  implies  a  power  of  calling  up 
at  pleafure  the  ideas  which  it  combines  :  and  I  ana 
inclined  to  believe,  that  the  entertainment  which  it 
gives  to  the  hearer,  is  founded,  in  a  confiderable  de- 
gree, on  his  furprife,  at  the  command  which  the  man 
of  wit  has  acquired  over  a  part  of  the  conftitution, 
which  is  fo  little  fubjecl  to  the  will. 

That  the  efFe6b  of  wit  depends  partly,  at  leaft,  on 
the  circumftance  now  mentioned,  appears  evidently 
from  this,  that  we  are  more  pleafed  with  a  bon  inotj 
which  occurs  in  converfation,  than  with  one  in  print ; 
and  that  we  never  fail  to  receive  difgull  from  wit, 
when  we  fufpect  it  to  be  premeditated.     The  plea- 
fure, too,  we  receive  from  wit,  is  heightened,  when 
the  original  idea  is  ftarted  by  one  perfon,  and  the  re- 
lated idea  by  another.     Dr.  Campbell  has  remarked, 
that  "  a  witty  repartee  is  infinitely  more  pleafmg, 
"  than  a  witty  attack  ;  and  that  an  allufion  will  ap- 
"  pear  excellent  when  thrown  out  extempore  in  con- 
"  verfation,  which  would  be  deemed  execrable  in 
*'  print."     In  all  thefe  cafes,  the  wit  confidered  abfo- 
lutely  is  the  fame.     The  relatione  which  are  difcov- 
ered  between  the  compared  ideas  are  equally  nevy  : 
and  yet,  as  foon  as  we  fufpecl  that  the  wit  was  pre- 
meditated, the  pleafure  we  receive  from  it  is  infinite- 
ly diminiflied.     Inffances  indeed  may  be  mentioned, 
in  which  we  are  pleafed  with  contemplating  an  un- 
expeded  relation  between  ideas,  without  any  refer- 
ence to  the  habits  of  alTociation  in  the  mincl  of  the 
perfon  who  difcovered  it.     A  bon  mot  produced  at 
the  game  of  crofs-purpofes,  would  not  fail  to  create 
amufenient  ;    but  in  fuch  cafes,  our  pleafure  feems 
chiefly  to  arife  from  the  furprife  we  feel  at  fo  extra- 
ordinary a  coincidence  between  a  queftion  and  an 
anfwer  coming  from  perfons  who  had  no  direct  com- 
munication with  each  other. 

Of  the  efFed  added  to  wit  by  the  promptitude 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  ^7 

With  which  its  combinations  are  formed.  Fuller  ap- 
pears to  have  had  a  very  juft  idea,  from  what  he  has 
recorded  of  the  focial  hours  of  our  two  great  Eng- 
3i(h  Dramatifts.  "  Johnfon's  parts  were  not  fo  rea- 
"  dy  to  run  of  themfelves,  as  able  to  anfwer  the  fpur ; 
"  fo  that  it  may  be  truly  faid  of  him,  that  he  had  an 
*'  elaborate  wit,  wrought  out  by  his  own  induftry. — 
*'  Many  were  the  wit-combats  between  him  and 
*'  Shakespeare,  which  two  I  behold  like  a  Spanifh 
*'  great  galleon,  and  an  Englifh  mao  of  war.  John- 
"  fon  (like  the  former)  was  built  far  higher  in  learn- 
"  ing  ;  folid,  but  flow  in  his  performances.  Shake- 
"  fpeare,  with  the  Englifh  man  of  war,  leil'er  in  bulk, 
*'  but  lighter  in  failing,  could  turn  with  all  tides,  tack 
**  about  and  take  advantage  of  all  winds,  by  the 
*'  quicknefs  of  his  wit  and  invention.*'* 

I  before  obferved,  that  the  pleafure  we  receive 
from  wit  is  increafed,  when  the  two  ideas  between 
which  the  relation  is  difcovered,  are  fuggufted  by 
different  perfons.       In    the  cafe  of  a  bon  mot  occur-  • 
ring  in  converfation,  the  reafon  of  this  is  abundant- 
ly obvious  ;   becaufe,  when  the   related  ideas  are 
fuggefted  by  different  perfons,  we  have  a  proof  that 
the  wit  was  not  premeditated.     But  even  in  a  writ- 
ten compofition  ,    we  are  much    more    delighted 
when  the  fubjed  was  furnifhed  to  the  author  by  an* 
other  perfon,  than  when  he  chufes  the  topic  on  which 
he  is  to  difplay  his  wit.     How  much  would  the  plea- 
fure we  receive  from  the  Key  to  the  Lock  be  diminifli- 
ed,  if  we  fufpected  that  the  author  had  the  key  in 
view  when  he  wrote  that  poem  ;  and  that  he  intro- 
duced fome  expreflions,  in  order  to  furnifli  a  fubje<^ 
for  the  vvit  of  the  commentator  ?  How  totally  would 
It  deftroy  the  pleafure  we  receive  from  a  parody  on 
a  poem,  if  we  fufpefled  that  both  were  productions 
of  the  fame  autlior  ?    The  truth  feems  to  be,  that 

*  History  of  the  Worthies  of  England.     London,  1 662. 


'^68\  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

when  both  the  related  ideas  are  fuggefted  by  the 
fame  perfoii,  we  have  not  a  very  fatisfadory  proof 
of  any  thing  uncommon  in  the  intelledual  habits  of 
the  author.  We  may  fufped  that  both  ideas  occur- 
red to  him  at  the  fame  time  ;  and  we  know  that  in 
the  duUeft  and  moft  phlegmatic  minds,  fuch  extra- 
ordinary aflbciations  wili  fome  tinies  take  place. 
But  when  the  fubjed:  of  the  wit  is  furnifhed  by  one 
perfon,  and  the  wit  fuggefted  by  another,  we  have  a 
proof,  not  only  that  the  author's  ndnd  abounds  with 
fuch  fingular  aflbciations,  but  that  he  has  his  wit  per- 
fectly at  command. 

As  an  additional  confirmation  of  thefe  obfer ra- 
tions, we  may  remark,  that  the  more  an  author  is 
limited  by  his  fubject,  the  more  we  are  pleafed  with 
his  wit.  And,  therefore,  the  effect  of  wit  does  not 
arife  folely  from  the  unexpeded  relations  which  it 
prefents  to  the  mind,  but  arifes,  in  part,  from  the 
furprife  it  excites  at  thofe  intelledual  habits  which 
give  it  birth.  It  is  evident,  that  the  more  the  au- 
thor is  circumfcribed  in  the  choice  of  his  materials, 
the  greater  muft  l^e  the  command  which  he  has  ac- 
quired over  thofe  aflbciating  principles  on  which  wit 
depends,  and  of  confequence,  according  to  the  fore- 
going dodrine,  the  greater  muft  be  the  furprife  and 
the  pleafure  which  his  wit  produces.  In  Addifon's 
celebrated  verfes  to  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  on  his  pid- 
ure  (^f  George  the  Firft,  in  which  he  compares  the 
painter  to  Phidias,  and  the  fubjeds  of  his  pencil  to 
the  Grecian  Deities,  the  range  of  the  Poet's  wit  was 
rieceffarily  confined  within  very  narrow  bounds;  and 
what  principally  delights  us  in  that  performance  is, 
the  furprifiog  eafe  and  felicity  with  which  he  runs 
the  parallel  between  the  Englifh  hiftory  and  the 
Greek  mythology.  Of  all  the  allufions  which  the 
following  pafiage  contains,  there  is  not  one,  taken 
fingly,  of  very  extraordinary  merit ;  and  yet  the  ef- 
fed  of  the  whole  is  uncommonly  great,  from  the  fm- 


CF  THE  HUMATT  MIND.  269 

guhf  power  of  combination,  which  fa  long  and  fo 
difficult  an  exertion  difcovers. 

**  Wise  Phidias  thus,  his  skill  to  prove, 
"  Thro'  many  a  god  advanced  to  Jove, 
"  And  taught  the  polish'd  rocks  to  shine 
"  Wilh  airs  and  lineanoentb  divine, 
"  Till  Greece  amaz'd  and  half  afraid, 
*<  Th*  asse  -nbled  peities  survey'd. 

"  Great  Pan,  who  wont  to  chase  thefarr, 
"  And  lov'd  the  spreading  oak,  was  there ; 
**  Old  Saturn,  too,  with  up -cast  eyes^ 
"  Beheld  his  abdicated  skies  ; 
"^And  mighty  Mars  for  war  renowned, 
**  In  adamantine  armour  frown'd  ; 
"  By  him  the  childless  Goddess  rose,, 
"  Minerva,  studious  to  compose 
*'  Her  twisted  threads  ;   the  web  she  strung, 
**  And  o'er  a  loom  of  marble  hung  ; 
♦<  Thetis,  the  trouWed  ocean's  queen, 
"  Match'd  with  a  mortal  next  was  saSBJ 
**  Reclin  n^  on  a  funeral  urn, 
"  Her  short-liv'd  darling  son  to  mourn  ; 
"  The  last  was  he  whose  thunder  slew 
**  The  Titan  race,  a  rebel  crew, 
"  That  from  a  hundred  hills  ally'd, 
^*  In  impious  league  their  King  defy'd." 

According  to  the  view  which  I  have  given  of  the 
nature  of  Wit,  the  pleafure  we  derive  irom  that  af- 
femblage  of  ideas  which  it  prefents,  is  greatly  height- 
ened and  enlivened  by  our  furprife  at  the  conaniand 
difplayed  over  a  part  of  the  conflitution,  which,  in 
our  own  cafe,  we  find  to  be  fo  little  fubje^l  to  the 
will.  We  confider  Wit  as  a  fort  of  feat  or  trick  of 
intellectual  dexterity,  analogous,  in  fome  relpeds,  to 
the  extraordinary  performances  of  jugglers  ana  rope- 
dancers  ;  and .  in  both  caies,  the  pieafure  we  receive 
from  the  exhibition,  is  explicable  m  part,  (I,  by  no 
means,  fay  entirely  J  or.  the  fame  principles. 

If  thefe  remarks  be  juft,  it  feems  to  follow  as  a  con- 
fecjuence,  that  thofe  men  who  are  moil  deficient  in 


t>70  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

the  power  of  prompt  combination,will  be  moft  poign- 
antly afFecled  by  it,  when  exerted  at  the  will  of  an- 
other :  and  therefore,  the  charge  of  jealoufy  and  en- 
vy brought  againft  rival  Wits,  when  difpofed  to 
look  gra^re  at  each  other's  jefts,  may  perhaps  be  ob- 
viated in  a  way  lefs  injurious  to  their  charafters. 

The  fame  remarks  fugged  a  limitation,  or  rather 
an  explanation,  of  an  alTertion  of  Lord  Chefterfield's 
that  "  genuine  wit  never  made  any  man  laugh 
"  fmce  the  creation  of  the  world."  The  obferva- 
tion,  I  br^lieve,  to  be  juft,  if  by  genuine  wit,  we 
mean  wit  wholly  divefted  of  every  mixture  of  hum- 
or :  and  if  by  laughter  we  mean,  that  convulfive  and 
noify  agitation  which  is  excited  by  the  ludicrous. — 
But  there  is  unqueftionably  ^ifmUe  appropriated  to 
the  flaihes  of  wit  5 — a  fmile  of  furprife  and  wonder  ; 
-—not  altogether  unlike  the  efFed  produced  on  the 
mind  and  the  countenance,  by  a  feat  of  legerdemain 
when  executed  with  uncommon  fuccefs. 

11.  Of  Rhyme, 

The  pleafure  we  receive  from  rhyme,  feems  alfo 
to  arife,  partly,  from  our  furprife  at  the  cammand 
which  the  Poet  muft  have  acquired  over  the  train 
of  his  ideas,  in  order  to  be  able  to  exprefs  liimfelf 
with  elegance,  and  the  appearance  of  eafe,  under  the 
reftraint  which  rhyme  impofes.  In  witty  or  in  hu- 
morous performances,  this  furprife  ferves  to  enliven 
that  which  the  wit  or  the  humor  produces,  and 
renders  its  efFecls  more  fenfible.  How  flat  do  the 
livelieft  and  moft  ludicrous  thoughts  appear  in  blank 
verfe  ?  And  how  wonderfully  is  the  wit  of  Pope 
heightened,  by  the  eafy  and  happy  rhymes  in  which 
it  is  expreffed  ? 

It  muft  not,  however,  be  imagined,  either  in  the 
cafe  of  wit  or  of  rhyme,that  the  pleafure  arifes  foleljr 
from  our  furprife  at  the  uncommon  habits  of  alfoci- 


dF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  271 

ation  which  the  author  difcovers.  In  the  former 
cafe,  there  muft  be  prefented  to  the  mind,  an  unex- 
pected analogy  or  relation  between  different  ideas  ; 
and  perhaps  other  circumftances  muft  concur  to  ren- 
der the  wit  perfed.  If  the  combination  has  no  oth- 
er merit  than  that  of  bringing  together  two  ideas 
which  never  met  before,  we  may  be  furprifed  at  its 
oddity,  but  we  do  not  confider  it  as  a  proof  of  wit. 
On  the  contrary,  the  want  of  any  analogy  or  rela- 
tion between  the  combined  ideas,  leads  us  to  fufpe<51:, 
that  the  one  did  not  fugged  the  other,  in  confe- 
quence  of  any  habits  of  affociation  ;  but  that  the 
two  were  brought  together  by  ftudy,  or  by  mere 
accident.  All  that  I  affirm  is,  that  when  the  analo- 
gy or  relation  is  pleaiing  in  itfelf,  our  pleafure  is 
heightened  by  our  furprife  at  the  author's  habits  of 
affociation  when  compared  with  our  own.  In  the 
cafe  of  Rhyme,  too,  there  is  undoubtedly  a  certain 
degree  of  pleafure  ariling  from  the  recurrence  of 
the  same  found.  We  frequently  obferve  children 
amufe  themfelves  with  repeating  over  fingle  words 
which  rhyme  together  :  and  the  lower  people,  who 
derive  little  pleafure  from  poetry,  excepting  in  fo 
far  as  it  affeds  the  ear,  are  fo  pleafed  with  the  echo 
of  the  rhymes,  that  when  they  read  verfes  where  it 
is  not  perfed:,  they  are  apt  to  fupply  the  Poet's  de- 
fers, by  violating  the  common  rules  of  pronuncia- 
tion. This  pleafure,  however,  is  heightened  by 
our  admiration  of  th<3  miraculous  powers  which  the 
poet  muft  have  acquired  over  the  train  of  his  ideas, 
and  over  all  the  various  modes  of  exprelTion  which 
the  language  affords,  in  order  to  convey  inilruclion 
and  entertainment,  without  tranfgrefling  the  eftab- 
iifhed  laws  of  regular  verfification.  In  fome  of  the 
lower  kinds  of  poetry  ;  for  example,  in  acroftics, 
and  in  the  lines  which  are  adapted  to  bouts  rmci^  t!  e 
merit  lies  entirely  in  this  command  of  thought  and 
expreUion  \  or,  in  other  words,  in  a  command  of 


272  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHfLOSOPHY 

ideas  founded  on  extraordinary  habits  of  affociation. 
Even  feme  authors  of  a  fuperior  clafs,  occalionaily 
ihew  an  inclination  to  ditplay  their  knack  at  rhym- 
ing, by  introducing,  at  the  end  of  the  iirft  line  of  a 
couplet,  fome  word  to  which  the  language  hardly  af- 
fords a  correfp:)i.ding  found.  Swift,  in  his  more 
trifling  pieces,  abounds  with  inftances  of  this  ;  and 
in  Hudibras,  when  the  author  ufes  his  double  and 
tripple  rhymes,  many  couplets  have  no  merit  what- 
ever but  what  arifes  from  dilScuIty  of  execution. 

The  pleafure  we  receive  from  rhyme  in  lerious 
compofitions,  arifes  from  a  combination  of  different 
circumftances  which  my  prefent  fubject  does  not 
lead  me  to  inveftigate  particularly.*  lam  perfuad- 
€d,  however,  that  it  arifes,  in  part,  from  our  fur- 
prife  at  the  Poet's  habits  of  aflbciation,  which  enable 
him  to  convey  his  thoughts  with  eafe  and  beauty, 
notwithftanding  the  narrow  limits  within  which  his 
choice  of  expreftion  is  confined.  One  proof  of  this 
is,  that  if  there  appear  any  mark  of  conftraint,  eith- 
er in  the  ideas  or  in  the  exprefTion,  our  pleafure  is 
proportionally  diminiflied.  The  thoughts  muft 
feem  to  fuggeft  each  other,  and  the  rhymes  to  be  only 
an  accidental  circumflance.     The  fame  remark  may 

•  In  Elegiac  poetry,  the  recurrence  of  the  same  sound,  and  the 
un;formity  in  the  structure  of  the  vt-rbification  which  thisneces- 
t^arily  occasions,  are  peculiarly  suited  to  the  inactivity  of  the  mind, 
and  to  the  slow  and  equable  siccebsion  of  its  ideas,  when  under 
the  influence  of  tender  or  melancholy  passions  ;  and,  accordingly, 
in  such  cases,  even  the  La*in  jwets,  though  the  genius  of  their 
language  be  vtry  ill  fitted  for  compositions  in  rhyme,  occasionally 
indulge  themselves  in  something  very  nearly  approaching   to  it. 

**  Memnona  si  mater  mater  pioravit  Achillem, 
"  Et  tangant  roagnas  tristia  fata  DeiiS  ; 
*'  Flebilis  indignos  Elegeia  solve  capHIos, 
''  Ah  nimis  ex  verouunc  tibi  nomen  erit." 

Ivlany  other  instances  of  the  same  kiud  might  be  produced  frwn 
Elegiac  verse?  of  Ovid  and  Tib«jllo9; 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  273 

be  made  on  the  meafure  of  the  verfe.  When  in  its 
greateft  perfection,  it  does  not  appear  to  be  the  re- 
fult  of  labor,  but  to  be  dictated  by  nature,  or 
prompted  by  infpiration.  In  Pope's  bed  verfes,  the 
idea  is  exprefled  with  as  little  inverfion  of  ftyle,  and 
with  as  much  concifenefs,  precifion,  and  propriety, 
as  the  author  could  have  attained,  had  he  been  writ- 
ing profe  :  without  any  apparent  exertion  on  his 
part,  the  words  feem  fpontaneouily  to  arrange 
themfelves  in  the  moil  mufical  numbers. 

"  While  still  a  child,  nor  yet  a  fool  to  fame, 
'*  1  lisp'd  in  numbers,  for  the  numbers  came.'* 

This  facility  of  verfification,  it  is  true,  may  be,  and 
probably  is,  in  mod  cafes,  only  apparent  :  and  it 
is  reafonable  to  think,  that  in  the  moll  perfedl  poet- 
ical productions,  not  only  the  choice  of  w^ords,  but 
the  choice  of  ideas,  is  influenced  by  the  rhymes. — 
In  a  profe  compofition,  the  author  holds  on  in  a  di- 
rect courfe,  according  to  the  plan  he  has  previoufly 
formed  ;  but  in  a  poem,  the  rhymes  which  occur 
to  him  are  perpetually  diverting  him  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left,  by  fuggefting  ideas  which  do 
not  naturally  rife  out  of  his  fubjecl.  This,  I  pre- 
fume,  is  Butler's  meaning  in  the  following  couplet : 

"  Rhymes  the  rudder  are  of  verses 

"  With  which,  like  ships,  they  steer  their  courses.** 

But  although  this  may  be  the  cafe  in  facl,  the  Foet 
mufl  employ  all  his  art  to  conceal  it :  infomuch  that, 
if  he  finds  himfelf  under  the  neceflity  to  introduce,on 
account  of  the  rhymes,  a  fuperfluous  idea,  or  an 
awkward  exprefGon,  he  mud  place  it  in  the  firfl 
line  of  the  couplet,  and  not  in  the  fecond  ;  for  the 
reader,  naturally  prefuming  that  the  lines  were  com- 
pofed  in  the  order  in  which  the  author  arranges 
L  L 


374  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

/ 

thetn^  is  more  apt  to  fufpe^l  the  fecond  line  to  be  ac- 
commodated to  the  firft,  than  the  firft  to  the  fecond. 
And  this  flight  artifice  is,  in  general,  fufilcient  to 
impofe  on  that  degree  of  attention  with  which  poe- 
try is  read.  Who  can  doubt  that,  in  the  follow- 
ing lines,  Pope  wrote  the  firft  for  the  fake  of  the 
fecond  I 

"  A  wit's  a  feather,  and  a  chief  a  rod  ; 

«  An  honest  man's  the  noblest  work  of  God." 

Were  the  firfi:  of  thefe  lines,  or  a  line  equally  un- 
meaning, placed  laft,  the  couplet  would  have  ap- 
peared execrable  to  a  perfon  of  the  moft  moderate 
tafte. 

It  affords  a  ftrong  confirmation  of  the  foregoing 
obfervations,  that  the  Poets  of  fome  nations  have  de- 
lighted in  the  pradice  of  alliteration,  as  well  as  of 
rhyme,  and  have  even  confidered  it  as  an  effential 
circumftance  in  verfification.  Dr.  Beattie  obferves, 
that  "  fome  antient  Englifli  poems  are  more  diftin- 
"  guifhed  by  alliteration,  than  by  any  other  poetical 
*'  contrivance.  In  the  works  of  Langland,  even 
"  when  no  regard  is  had  to  rhyme,  and  but  little  to 
*^  a  rude  fort  of  anapeftic  meafure,  it  feems  to  have 
"  been  a  rule,  that  three  words,  at  leaft,  of  each  line 
"  fhould  begin  with  the  fame  letter."  A  late  author 
informs  us,  that,  in  the  Icelandic  poetry,  aUiteration 
is  confidered  as  a  circumfi:ance  no  lefs  effential  than 
rhyme.*  He  mentions  alfo  feveral  other  reftraints, 
which  muft  add  wonderfully  to  the  difficulty  of  ver- 
fification y  and  whicli"  appear  to  us  to  be  perfedly 

*  '*  The  Icelandic  poetry  requires  two  things  ;  viz.  words  with 
"  the  same  initial  letters,  and  words  of  the  same  sound.  It  was 
"  divided  into  stanzas,  each  of  which  consisted  of  four  couplets ; 
"  and  each  of  these  couplets  was  again  composed  of  two  hemis* 
"  ticks,  of  which  every  one  contiiined  six  syllables  ;  and  it  was 
**  not  allowed  to  augment  this  number,  except  in  cases  of  th*j 
*'  greatest  necessity."     See  Van  Troil's  Letters^n  Iceland,  p.  2C8> 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  275 

Arbitrary  and  capricious.  If  that  really  be  the  cafe, 
the  whole  pleafure  of  the  reader  or  hearer  arifes 
from  his  furprife  at  the  facility  of  the  Poet's  compo- 
lition  under  thefe  complicated  reftraints  ;  that  is, 
from  his  furprife  at  the  command  which  the  Poet  has 
acquired  over  his  thoughts  and  expreflions.  In  our 
rhyme,  I  acknowledge,  that  the  coincidence  of  found 
iS  agreeable  in  itfelf ;  and  only  aiErm,  that  the  plea- 
fure which  the  ear  receives  from  it,  is  heightened  by 
the  other  coniideration. 

III.     OfPoeUcal  Fancy, 

Tfiere  is  another  habit  of  aflbciation,  which,  in 
fome  men,  is  very  remarkable  ;  that  which  is  the 
foundation  of  Poetical  Fancy  :  a  talent  which  agrees 
with  Wit  in  fome  circumftances,  but  which  differs 
from  it  eifentially  in  others. 

The  pleafure  we  receive  from  Wit,  agrees  in  one 
particular  with  th^  pleafure  which  arifes  from  poet- 
ical allufions  ;  that  in  both  cafes  we  are  pleafed  with 
contemplating  an  analogy  between  two  different 
subjects.  But  they  differ  in  this,  that  the  man  of 
Wit  has  no  other  aim  than  to  combine  analogous 
ideas  ;*  whereas  no  allufion  can,  with  propriety, 
have  a  place  in  ferious  poetry,  unlefs  it  either  illuf- 
trate  or  adorn  the  principal  fubjecl.  If  it  has  both 
thefe  recommendations,  the  allufion  is  perfe<fl.  If 
it  has  neither,  as  is  often  the  cafe  with  the  allufions 
of  Cowley  and  of  Young,  the  Fancy  of  the  Poet  de» 
generates  into  Wit. 

If  the  obfervations  be  well-founded,  they  fugged 
a  rule  with  refpedl  to  poetical  allufions,  which  has 
not  always  been  fufficiently  attended  to.  It  frequent- 
ly happens,  that  two  fubjects  bear  an  analogy  to  each 

*I  speak  here  of  pure  and  unmixed  wit,  and  not  of  wit,  blended, 
»s  it  is  most  commonly,  with  some  degree  ot  humor. 


276  ELEMENTS  OF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

Other  in  more  refpeds  than  one  ;  and  where  fuch 
can  be  found,  they  undoubtedly  furnifli  the  moil 
favorable  of  all  occafions  tor  the  difplay  of  Wit. — 
But  in  ferious  poetry,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  that 
however  ftriking  thefe  analogies  may  be  ;  and  al- 
though each  of  them  might,  with  propriety,  be 
made  the  foundation  of  a  fepr^rate  allufion  ;  it  is  im- 
proper, in  the  courfe  of  the  fame  allufion,  to  include 
more  than  one  of  them  ;  as,  by  doing  fo,  an  author 
difcovers  an  afFedlation  of  Wit,  or  a  defire  of  tracing 
analogies,  inftead  of  illuftrating  or  adorning  the  fub- 
jed  of  his  compofition, 

I  formerly  defined  Fancy  to  be  a  power  of  aflbci- 
ating  ideas  according  to  relations  of  refemblance  and 
analogy.  This  definition  will  probably  be  thought 
too  general ;  and  to  approach  too  near  to  that  given 
of  Wit.  In  order  to  difcover  the  necelTary  limita- 
tions, we  fhall  confider  what  the  circumftances  are, 
which  pleafe  us  in  poetical  allufions.  As  thefe  allu- 
fions  are  fuggefted  by  Fancy,  and  are  the  moft  ftrik- 
ing inftances  in  which  it  difplays  itfelf,  the  received 
rules  of  Critics  with  refpe<El  to  them,  may  throw 
fome  light  on  the  meiital  power  which  gives  them 
birth. 

1.  An  allufion  pleafes,  by  illuftrating  a  fubjed: 
comparatively  obfcure.  Hence,  I  apprehend,  it  will 
be  found,  that  allufions  from  the  intellectual  world 
to  the  material,  are  more  pleafing,  than  from  the 
material  world  to  the  intelleflual.  Mafon,  in  his 
Ode  to  Memory,  compares  the  influence  of  that  fac- 
ulty over  our  ideas,  to  the  authority  of  a  general 
over  his  troops : 

_^— ""thou,  whose  sway 
**  The  throng'd  idea!  hosts  obey  ; 
"  Who  bidst  their'ranks  now^  vanish,  now  appear, 
"  Flame  in  the  van,  or  darken  in  the  rear." 

Would  the  allufion  have  been  equally  pleafing,  from 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  277 

ii  general  marfhalling    his  foldiers,  to  Memory  and 
the  fucceflion  of  ideas  ? 

The  efFecl  of  a  literal  and  fpiritlefs  tranflation  of  a 
work  of  genius,  has  been  compared  to  that  of  the 
figures  which  we  fee,  when  we  look  at  the  wrong 
fide  of  a  beautiful  piece  of  tapeftry.  The  allufion  is 
ingenious  and  happy  ;  but  the  pieafure  which  we 
receive  from  it  arifes,  not  merely  from  the  analogy 
which  it  prefents  to  us,  but  from  the  iiluflraiion 
which  it  affords  of  the  author's  idea.  No  one,  fure- 
ly,  in  fpeaking  of  a  piece  of  tapeftry,  would  think 
of  comparing  the  difference  between  its  fides,  to 
that. between  an  original  compofition  and  a  literal 
tranllation  ! 

Cicero,  and  after  him  Mr.  Locke,  in  illuftrating 
the  difficulty  of  attending  to  the  fubjeds  of  our  con- 
fcioufnefs,  have  compared  the  mind  to  the  Eye, 
which  fees  every  objecl  around  it,  but  is  invifible  to 
itfelf.  To  have  compared  the  Eye,  in  this  refpecl, 
to  the  Mind,  would  have  been  abfurd. 

Mr.  Pope's  comparifon  of  the  progrefs  of  youth- 
ful curiofity,  in  the  purfuits  of  fcience,  to  that  of  a 
traveller  among  the  Alps,  has  been  much,  and  juftiy, 
admired.  How  would  the  beauty  of  the  allufion 
have  been  diminiflied,  if  the  Alps  had  furnifhed  the 
original  fubjed:,  and  not  the  illuilration  ! 

But  although  this  rule  holds,  in  general,  I  ac- 
knowledge, that  inftances  may  be  produced,  from 
our  moft  celebrated  poetical  performances,  of  allu- 
fions  from  material  objecfs,  both  to  the  intelleclual 
and  the  moral  worlds.  Thefe,  however,  are  com- 
paratively few  in  number,  and  are  not  to  be  found 
in  defcriptive  or  in  didactic  works  ;  but  in  compo- 
fitions  written  under  the  influence  of  fome  particu- 
lar paflion,  or  which  are  meant  to  exprefs  fome  pe- 
culiarity in  the  mind  of  the  author.  Thus,  a  melan- 
choly man,  who  has  met  with  many  misfortunes  in 
life,  will  be  apt  to  moralize  on  every  phyfical  event, 


278  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PrilLOSOPHV 

and  every  appearance  of  nature  ;  becaufe  his  atten- 
tion dwells  more  habitually  on  human  life  and  con- 
duel,  than  on  the  material  objects  around  him.  Ihis 
is  the  cafe  with  the  banifhed  Duke,  in  Shakefpeare'B 
As  you  like  it,  who,  in  the  language  of  that  Poet, 

"  Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  running  brooks, 
*'  Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing." 

But  this  is  plainly  a  diftempered  flate  of  the  mind  ; 
and  the  allulions  pleafe,  not  fo  much  by  the  analo- 
gies they  prefent,  as  by  the  picture  they  give  of  the 
character  of  the  perfon  to  whom  they  have  oc- 
curred. 

2.  An  allufion  pleafes,  by  prefenting  a  new  and 
beautiful  image  to  the  mind.  The  analogy  or  the 
refemblance  between  this  image  and  the  principal 
fubjed,  is  agreeable  of  itfelf,  and  is  indeed  neceflary 
to  furnifli  an  apology  for  the  tranfition  which  the 
writer  makes ;  but  the  pleafure  is  wonderfully  height- 
ened, when  the  new  image  thus  prefented  is  a  beau- 
tiful one.  The  following  allufion,  in  one  of  Mr. 
Home's  tragedies,  appears  to  me  to  unite  almoft 
€very  excellence  : 

"  Hope  and  fear,  alternate,  sway'd  his  breast ; 

*'  Like  light  and  shade  upon  a  waving  field, 
<'  Coursing  each  other,  when  the  flying  clouds 
"  Now  hide,  and  now  reveal,  the  Sun." 

Here  the  analogy  is  remarkably  perfect ;  not  on- 
ly between  light  and  hope,  and  between  darknefs 
and  fear  ;  but  between  the  rapid  fucccfiion  of  light 
and  ftiade,  and  the  momentary  influences  of  thefe 
oppofite  emotions  :  and,  at  the  Lime  time,  the  new 
image  which  is  prefented  to  us,  is  one  of  the  moft 
beautiful  and  ftriking  in  nature. 

The  foregoing  observations  fuggeft  a  reafon  why 
the  principal  ftores  of  Fancy  are  commonly  fuppofed 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  279 

to  be  borrowed  from  the  material  world.  Wit  has 
a  m*)re  extenfive  province,  and  delights  to  make  new 
combinations,  whatever  be  the  nature  of  the  com- 
pared ideas  :  but  the  favorite  excurfions  of  Fancy, 
are  from  intelleclual  and  moral  fubjeds  tn  the  ap- 
pearances with  which  our  fenfes  are  converfant. 
The  truth  is,  that  fuch  allufions  pleafe  more  than  any 
others  in  poetry.  According  to  this  limited  idea  of 
Fancy,  it  prefuppofes,  where  it  is  pofTelfed  in  an  emi- 
nent degree,  an  extenlive  obfervation  of  natural  ob- 
jects, and  a  mind  fufceptible  of  ftrong  impreflions 
from  them.  It  is  thus  only  that  a  ilock  of  images  can 
be  acquired  ;  and  that  thefe  images  will  be  ready  to 
prefent  themfelves,  whenever  any  analogous  fubject 
occurs.  And  hence  probably  it  is,  that  poetical  genius 
is  almoft  always  united  with  an  exquilite  fenfiibiTity  to 
the  beauties  of  nature. 

Before  leaving  the  fubje6l  of  fancy,,  it  may  not  be 
improper  to  remark,  that  its  two  qualities  are,  liveli- 
nefs  and  luxuriancy.  The  word  lively  refers  to  the 
quicknefs  of  the  aflbciation.  The  word  rich  or  luxu- 
riant to  the  variety  of  alTociated  ideas. 

IV.    Of  Invention  in  the  Arts  and  Sciences, 

To  Thefe  powers  of  Wit  and  Fancy,  that  of  Inven- 
tion in  the  Arts  and  Sciences  has  a  ftriking  refem- 
blance.  Like  them  it  implies  a  command  over  cer- 
tain clafTes  of  ideas,  which,  in  ordinary  men  are  not: 
equally  fubject  to  the  will :  and  like  them,  too,  it  \i] 
the  refult  of  acquired  habits,  and  not  the  original  gift 
of  nature. 

Of  the  procefs  of  the  mind  in  fcicntific  invention, 
I  propofe  afterwards  to  treat  fully,  under  the  article 
of  Reafoning  ;  and  I  fliall  therefore  confine  myfelf 
at  prefent  to  a  few  detached  remarks  upon  lome 
views  of  the  fubjecl  which  are  fuggctled  by  the  fore- 
going inquiries. 


■2S0  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHV 

Before  we  proceed,  it  may  be  proper  to  take  no* 
tice  of  the  diitinclion  between  Invention  and  Difco- 
very.  The  objecl  of  the  former,  as  has  been  fre- 
quently remarked,  is  to  produce  fomething  which 
had  no  exigence  before  ;  that  of  the  latter,  to  bring 
to  light  fomething  which  did  exift,  but  which  was 
concealed  from  com.mon  obfervation.  Thus  we  lay. 
Otto  Guerricke  invented  the  air-pump  ;  Sarictorius 
invented  the  thermometer  ;  Newton  and  Gregory 
invented  the  reflecting  telefcope  :  Galileo  difcover- 
ed  the  folar  fpots  ;  and  Harvey  difcovered  the  circu- 
lation of  the  blood.  It  appears,  therefore,  that  im- 
provements in  the  Arts  are  properly  called  inventions  ; 
and  that  fads  brought  to  hght  by  means  of  obferva- 
tion, are  properly  called  dif cover ies. 

Agreeable  to  this  analogy,  is  the  ufe  which  we 
make  of  thefe  words,  when  we  apply  them  to  lub- 
jeds  purely  intellectual.  As  truth  is  eternal  and  im- 
mutable, and  has  no  dependence  on  our  belief  or 
difbelief  of  it,  a  perfon  who  brings  to  light  a  truth 
formerly  unknown,  is  faid  to  make  a  difcovery.  A 
perfon,  on  the  other  hand,  who  contrives  a  new 
method  of  difcovering  truth,  is  called  an  inventor. 
Phythagoras,  we  fay,  difcovered  the  forty-feventh 
propofition  of  Euclid's  firfl  book  ;  Newton  difcov- 
ered the  binomial  theorem  ;  but  he  invented  the 
method  of  prime  and  ultimate  ratios  :  and  he  inven- 
ted the  method  of  fluxions. 

In  general,  every  aavancement  in  knowledge  is 
conddered  as  a  difcovery  ;  every  contrivance  by 
which  we  produce  an  eifect,  or  accomplilh  an  end,  is 
confidered  as  an  invention.  Difcoveries  in  fcience, 
therefore,  unlefs  they  are  made  by  accident,  imply 
the  exercife  of  invention  ;  and,  accordingly,  the 
word  invention  is  commonly  ufed  to  exprefs  origin- 
ality of  genius  in  the  Sciences,  as  well  as  in  the  Arts. 
It  is  in  this  general  fenfe  that  I  employ  it  in  the  fol* 
lowing  obfervatiofis. 

\ 


OF  THfi  HUMAN  MIND»  231 

tt  was  before  remarked,  that  in  every  inftance  of 
invention,  there  is  fome  new  idea,  or  fome  new  com- 
bination of  ideas,  which  is  brought  to  light  by  the 
inventor  ;  and  that,  although  this  may  fometime.'? 
happen,  in  a  way  which  he  is  unable  to  explain,  yet 
when  a  man  poffeiTes  an  habitual  fertility  of  inven- 
tion in  any  particular  Art  or  Science,  and  can  rely, 
with  confidence,  on  his  inventive  powers,  whenever 
he  is  called  upon  to  exert  them  ;  he  mufl  have  ac- 
quired, by  previous  habits  of  ftudy,  a  command  over 
thofe  clalfes  of  his  ideas,  which  are  fubfervient  to  the 
particular  effort  that  he  wifhes  to  make.  In  what 
manner  this  command  is  acquired,  it  is  not  pofllble, 
perhaps,  to  explain  completely  ;  but  it  appears  to  me 
to  be  chiefly  in  the  two  following  ways*  In  the  firft 
place,  by  his  habits  of  fpeculation,  he  may  have  ar- 
ranged his  knowledge  in  fuch  a  manner  as  may  ren- 
der it  eafy  for  him  to  combine,  at  pleafure,  all  the 
various  ideas  in  his  mind,  which  have  any  relation 
to  the  fubjed  about  which  he  is  occupied  :  or,  fe- 
condly,  he  may  have  learned  by  experience,  certain 
general  rules,  by  means  of  which,  he  can  direct  the 
train  of  his  thoughts  into  thofe  channels  in  which  the 
ideas  he  is  in  queft  of  may  be  moft  likely  to  occur 
to  him. 

I.  The  former  of  thefe  obfervations,  I  Ihall  not 
ftop  to  illudrate  particularly,  at  prefent ;  as  the  fame 
fubjeft  will  occur  afterwards,  under  the  article  of 
Memory.  It  is  fufficient  for  my  purpofe,  in  thif? 
chapter,  to  remark,  that  as  habits  of  fpeculation  have 
a  tendency  to  claflify  our  ideas,  by  leading  us  to  re- 
fer particular  fads  and  particular  truths  to  general 
principles  ;  and  as  it  is  from  an  approximation  and 
comparifon  of  related  ideas,  that  new  difcoveries  in 
moft  inftances  refult ;  the  knowledge  of  the  philofo- 
pher,  even  fuppofing  that  it  is  not  more  extenfive,  i$ 
arranged  in  a  manner  much  more  favorable  to  in- 
vention, than  in  a  mind  unaccuftomed  to  fyftem. 
Mm 


282  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

How  much  invention  depends  on  a  proper  combi- 
nation of  the  materials  of  our  knowledge,  appears 
from  the  refources  which  occur  to  men  of  the  loweft 
degree  of  ingenuity,  when  they  are  prefled  by  any 
alarming  difficulty  and  danger  ;  and  from  the  unex- 
pected exertions  made  by  very  ordinary  characters, 
when   called   to  lituations   which  roufe  their  latent 
powers.     In  fuch  cafes,  I  take  for  granted,  that  ne- 
ceffity  operates  in  producing  invention,  chiefly  by 
concentrating  the  attention  of  the  mind  to  one  fet  of 
ideas ;  by  leading  us  to  view  thefe  in  every  light,  and 
to  combine  them  varioufly  with  each  other.     As  the 
fame  idea  may  be  connected  with  an  infinite  variety 
of  others  by  different  relations  ;   it  may,  according 
to  circumflances,  at  one  time,  fuggefl  one  of  thefe 
ideas,  and,  at  another  time,  a  different  one.     When 
we  dwell   long  on  the  fame  idea,  we  obtain  all  the 
others  to  which  it  is  any  way  related,  and   thus  are 
furnifhed  with  materials  on  which  our  powers  of 
judgment  and  reafoning  may  be  employed.     The  ef- 
fect of  the  divifion  of  labor,  in  multiplying  mechan- 
ical  contrivances,  is  to  be  explained  partly  on  the 
fame  principle.     It  limits  the  attention  to  a  particu- 
lar fubject,  and  familiarifes  to  the  mind  all  the  pofli- 
ble  combinations  of  ideas  which  have  any  relation 
to  it. 

Thefe  obfervations  fuggeft  a  remarkable  diflference 
between  Invention  and  Wit.  The  former  depends, 
in  mofl  inflances,  on  a  combination  of  thofe  ideas, 
which  are  connected  by  the  lefs  obvious  principles 
of  affociation  ;  and  it  may  be  called  forth  in  almoft 
any  mind  by  the  prefTure  of  external  circumflances. 
The  ideas  which  mufl  be  combined,  in  order  to  pro- 
duce the  latter,  are  chiefly  fuch  as  are  affociated  by 
thofe  llighter  connexions  which  take  place  when  the 
mind  is  carelefs  and  difengaged.  "  If  you  have  real 
'^  wit,"  fays  Lord  Cheflerfield,  "  it  will  flow  fponta- 
**  neoufly,  and  you  need  not  aim  at  it  ,  for  in  that 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINB.  283 

"  cafe,  the  rule  of  the  gofpel  is  reverfed  ;  and  it  will 
**  prove,  feek  and  you  fhail  not  find"  Agreeably 
to  this  obfervation,  wit  is  promoted  by  a  certain  de- 
gree of  intoxication,  which  prevents  the  exercife  of 
that  attention,  which  is  necelTary  for  invention  in 
matters  of  Science.  Hence  too  it  is,  that  thofe  who 
have  the  reputation  of  Wits,  are  commonly  men 
confident  in  their  own  powers,  v/ho  allow  the  train 
of  their  ideas  to  follow  in  a  great  meafure,  its  natural 
courfe  ;  and  hazard,  in  company,  every  thing,  good 
or  bad,  that  occurs  to  them.  Men  of  modelly  and 
tafte  feldom  attempt  wit  in  a  promifcuous  fociety  ; 
or  if  they  are  forced  to  make  fuch  an  exertion,  they 
are  feldom  fuccefsful.  Such  men,  however,  in  the 
circle  of  their  friends,  to  whom  they  can  unbofom 
themfelves  without  referve,  are  frequently  the  moft 
amufing  and  the  moft  interefting  of  companions  ;  as 
the  vivacity  of  their  wit  is  tempered  by  a  correct 
judgment,  and  refined  manners  ;  and  as  its  effed:  is 
heightened  by  that  fenfibility  and  delicacy,  with 
which  we  fo  rarely  find  it  accompanied  in  the  com- 
mon intercourfe  of  life. 

When  a  man  of  wit  makes  an  exertion  to  diftin- 
guifli  hiii^felf,  his  fallies  are  commonly  too  far  fetch- 
ed to  pleafe.  He  brings  his  mind  into  a  Hate  ap- 
proaching to  that  of  the  inventor,  and  becomes  rath- 
er ingenious  than  witty.  This  is  often  the  cafe  with 
the  writers  whom  Johnfon  diftinguifhes  by  the  nam« 
of  the  Metaphyfical  Poets. 

Thofe  powers  of  invention,  which  neceffity  occa- 
iionally  calls  forth  in  uncultivated  minds,  fome  indi- 
viduals poflefs  habitually.  The  related  ideas  which, 
in  the  cale  of  the  former,  are  brought  together  by 
the  flow  eiForti  of  attention  and  rccolleclion,  prefent 
themfelves  to  the  latter,  in  confequence  of  a  more 
fyftematical  arrangement  of  their  knowledge.  The 
inftantaneoufnefs  with  which  fuch  remote  combina- 
tions are  effected,  fometimcs  appear  fo  wonderful. 


'^S4i  rL£MENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

that  we  arc  apt  to  afcribe  it  to  fomething  like  infpi- 
ration  ;  bvit  it  muil  be  remembered,  that  when  any 
fubjcd  llvongly  and  habitually  occupies  the  thoughts, 
it  gives  i:;;  ;iii  iiitereft  in  the  obfervation  of  the  moft 
trivial  cirtun^liance  which  we  fufpecl  to  have  any  re- 
lation to  ir,  however  diftant  ;  and  by  thus  render- 
ing the  couiiiion  objedls  and  occurrences  which  the 
accidents  of  life  prefent  to  us,  fubi'ervient  to  one  par- 
ticular employment  of  the  intelledual  powers,  eftab- 
lifhes  in  the  rjeniory  a  connection  between  our  fa- 
vorite puriuit,  raid  all  the  materials  with  which  expe- 
rience and  reficdlion  have  fupplied  us  for  the  farther 
profecution  of  it. 

II.  I  obferved,  in  the  fecond  place,  that  invention 
may  be  facilitated  by  general  rules,  which  enable  the 
inventor  to  dired  the  train  of  his  thoughts  into  par- 
ticular channels.  Thefe  rules  (to  afcertain  which, 
ought  to  be  one  principal  object  of  the  logician)  will 
afterwards  fall  under  my  consideration,  when  \  come 
to  exam.ine  thofe  intellectual  procelTes  which  are  fub- 
fervient  to  the  difcovery  of  truth.  At  prefent,  I 
Ihall  confine  mylelf  to  a  few  general  remarks  ;  in 
flating  which,  I  have  no  other  aim  than  to  fhew,  to 
how  great  a  degree  invention  depends  on  cultivation 
and  habit,  even  in  thofe  fciences  in  which  it  is  gen- 
erally fuppofed,  that  every  thing  depends  on  natural 
genius. 

When  we  confider  the  geometrical  difcoveries  of 
the  ancients,  in  the  form  in  which  they  are  exhibit- 
ed in  the  greater  pirt  of  the  works  which  have  fur- 
vived  to  our  times,it  is  feldom  poflible  for  us  to  trace 
the  fteps  by  which  they  were  led  to  their  conclu- 
:fions  :  and,  indeed,  the  objecls  of  this  fcience  are  {o 
unlike  thofe  of  all  others,  that  it  is  not  unnatural  for 
a  perfon  who  enters  on  the  ftudy,  to  be  dazzled  by 
its  novelty,  and  to  form  an  exaggerated  conception 
of  the  genius  of  thofe  men  who  firft  brought  to 
light  fuch  a  variety  of  truths,  fo  profound  and  fo 


GF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  2S5 

remote  from  the  ordinary  courfe  oFour  fpeculations. 
We  find,  however,  that  even  at  the  time  when  the 
ancient  analyfis  was  unknown  to  the  moderns  ;  fuch 
mathematicians  as  had  attended  to  the  progrefs  of 
the  mind  in  the  difcovery  of  truth,  concluded  a  pri- 
ori^ that  the  difcoveries  of  the  Greek  geometers  did 
not,  at  firft,  occur  to  them  in  the  order  in  which 
they  are  ftated  in  their  writings.  The  prevailing 
opinion  was,  that  they  had  been  polIclTed  oi  fome 
fecret  method  of  inveftigation,  which  they  carefully 
concealed  from  the  vvorld ;  and  that  they  publifhed 
the  r.efult  of  their  labors  in  fuch  a  form,  as  they 
thought  would  be  moft  likely  to  excite  the  admira- 
tion of  their  readers.  "  O  quam  bene  foret,"  fays 
Petrtis  Nonius^  "  fi  qui  in  fcientiis  mathematicisfcrip- 
**  ferint  authores,  fcripta  reliquiiTent  inventa  fua 
*'eadem  methodo,  et  per  eofdem  difcurfus,  quibus  ip- 
"  ii  in  ea  primum  inciderunt ;  et  non,  ut  in  mecha- 
"  nica  loquitur  Ariftoteles  de  artificibus,  qui  nobis 
**  foris  oftendunt  fuasquas  fecerint  machinas,  fed  ar- 
*' tificium  abfcondunt,  ut  magisappareantadmirabi- 
*'  les.  Eft  utique  inventio  in  arte  qualibet  diverfa 
"  multum  a  traditione  :  neque  putandum  eft  pluri- 
•^'  mas  Euclidis  et  ArchimedispropofitionesfuliTe  ab 
"  illis  ea  via  inventas  qua  nobis  iili  ipfas  tradide- 
**  runt  "*  The  revival  of  the  ancient  analyfis,  by 
fome  late  mathematicians  in  this  country,  has,  in 
part,  juftified  thefe  remarks,  by  Ihewing  to  how 
great  a  degree  the  inventive  power  of  the  Greek 
geometers  were  aided  by  that  method  of  inveftiga- 
tion ;  and  by  exhibiting  fome  ftriking  fpecimens  of 
addrefs  in  the  practical  application  of  it. 

The  folution  of  problems,  indeed,  it  may  be  faid, 
is  but  one  mode  in  which  mathematical  invention 


*  See  some  other  passages  to  the  same '  purpose,  quoted  from  dif- 
ferent .vriters,  by  Dr.  Simpson,  in  the  preface  to  his  Restoration 
of  the  Loci  Plaiji  of  AppoHonius  Pergaaus,  Glasg.  1749* 


^86  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

may  be  difpiayed.  The  difcovery  of  new  truths  j« 
what  we  chiefly  admire  in  an  original  genius  ;  and 
the  method  of  analyfis  gives  us  no  fatisfadion  with 
refpe<^  to  the  procefs  by   which  they  are  obtained. 

To  remove  this  difficulty  completely,  by  explain- 
ing all  the  various  ways  in  which  new  theorems  may 
be  broijght  to  light,  would  lead  to  inquiries  foreign 
to  this  work.  In  order,  however,  to  render  the  pro- 
cefs of  the  mind,  on  fuch  occafions,  a  litde  lefs  myf- 
terious  than  it  is  commonly  fuppofed  to  be  :  it  may 
be  proper  to  remark,  that  the  moft  copious  fource 
of  difcoveries  is  the  inveftigation  of  problems  ; 
which  feldom  fails  (even  although  we  lliouid  not  fuc- 
ceed  in  the  attainment  of  the  object  which  we  have 
in  view)  to  exhibit  to  us  fome  relations  formerly  un- 
obferved  among  the  quantities  which  are  under 
confideration.  Of  fo  great  importance  is  it  to  con- 
centrate the  attention  to  a  particular  lubjeft,  and 
to  check  that  wandering  and  diflipated  habit  of 
thought,  which,  in  the  cafe  of  moft  perfons,  renders 
their  fpeculations  barren  of  any  profit  either  to  them- 
felves  or  to  others.  Many  theorems,  too,  have  been 
fuggefted  by  analogy  ;  many  have  been  inveftigated 
from  truths  formerly  known  by  altering  or  by  gen- 
eralifmg  the  hypothefis  ;  and  rrany  have  been  ob- 
tained by  afpecies  of  induction.  An  illufiration  of 
thefe  various  procefles  of  the  mind  would  not  only 
lead  to  new  and  curious  remarks,  but  would  con- 
tribute to  diminifli  that  blind  admiration  of  original 
genius,  which  is  one  of  the  chief  obftacles  to  the 
improvement  of  fcience.  v 

The  hiftory  of  natural  philofophy,  before  and  after 
the  time  of  Lord  Bacon,  affords  another  very  ftrik- 
ing  proof,  how  much  the  powers  of  invention  and 
difcovery  may  be  affifted  by  the  ftudy  of  method  ; 
and  in  all  the  fciences,  without  exception,  whoever 
employs  his  genius  with  a  regular  and  habitual  fuc- 
cefs,  plainly  Ihews,  that  it  is  by  means  of  general        m 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  28^ 

rules  that  his  inquiries  are  conducled.  Of  thefe 
rules,  there  may  be  many  which  the  inventor  never 
ftated  to  himfelf  in  words  ;  and,  perhaps,  he  may 
even  be  unconfcious  of  the  alliftance  which  he  de- 
rives from  them  ;  but  their  influence  on  his  genius 
appears  unqueftionably  from  the  uniformity  with 
which  it  proceeds  ;  and  in  proportion  as  they  can  be 
afcertained  by  his  own  fpeculations,  or  collected  by 
the  logician  from  an  examination  of  his  refearches, 
iimilar  powers  of  invention  will  be  placed  within 
the  reach  of  other  men,  who  apply  themfelves  to  the 
fame  ftudy. 

The  following  remarks,  which  a  truly  philofoph- 
ical  artift  has  applied  to  painting,  may  be  extended, 
with  fome  trifling  alterations,  to  all  the  different 
employments  of  our  intelledual  powers. 

''  What  we  now  call  genius,  begins,  not  where 
"  rules,  abftra£lly  tjtken,  end  ;  but  where  known, 
*'  vulgar,  and  trite  rules  have  no  longer  any  place. — 
"  It  muft  of  neceflity  be,  that  works  of  genius,  as 
"  well  as  every  other  effe<i,  as  it  muft  have  its  caufe, 
''  muft  likewife  have  its  rules  ;  it  cannot  be  by 
*'  chance,  that  excellencies  are  produced  witfa  any 
"  conftancy,  or  any  certainty,  for  this  is  not  thena- 
"  ture  of  chance  ;  but  the  rules  by  which  men  of 
*'  extraordinary  parts,  and  fuch  as  are  called  men  of 
"  genius,  work,  are  either  fuch  as  they  difcover  by 
**  their  own  peculiar  obfervation,  or  of  fuch  a  nice 
"  texture  as  not  eafily  to  admit  handling  or  exprefl- 
''  ing  in  words. 

"  Unfubftantial,  however,  as  thefe  rules  may  feem, 
"  and  difiicult  as  it  may  be  to  convey  them  in  writ- 
"  ing,  they  are  ftill  feen  and  felt  in  the  mind  of  the 
"  artift  ;  and  he  works  from  them  with  as  much  cer- 
"  tainty,  as  if  they  were  embodied,  as  I  may  fay, 
"  upon  paper.  It  is  true,  thefe  refined  principles 
"  cannot  be  always  made  palpable,  like  the  more 
"  grofs  rules  of  Art ;  yet  it  does  not  follow,  but  that 


288  ELEMENTS  OF  TH^  PHILOSOt^HY 

"  the  mind  may  be  put  in  fuch  a  train,  that  It  fhall 
*'  perceive,  by  a  kind  of  fcientific  fenfe,  that  propri- 
"  ety,  which  words  can  but  very  feebly  fuggeft."* 


SECTION  V. 

JppUcation  of  the  Principles  fiaied  in  the  foregoing  Sec- 
tions of  this  Chapter^  to  explain  the  Phenomena  cf 
Dreaming. 

WITH  refpect  to  the  Phenomena  of  Dreaming, 
three  different  queftions  may  be  propofed.  I'irlt : 
What  is  the  ftate  of  the  mind  in  fleep  ?  or,  in  other 
words,  what  faculties  then  continue  to  operate,  and 
w^hat  faculties  are  then  fufpended  ?  Secondly  ;  how 
far  do  our  dreams  appear  to  be  influenced  by  our 
bodily  fenfations  ;  and  in  what  refpeds  do  they  vary, 
according  to  the  different  conditions  of  the  body  in 
health,  and  in  ficknefs  ?  Thirdly  ;  virhat  is  the  change 
which  fieep  produces  on  thofe  parts  of  the  hody^  with 
which  our  mental  operations  are  more  immediately 
conneded  ;  and  how  does  this  change  operate,  in  di- 
verifying,  fo  remarka'Ty,  the  phenomena  which  cur 
rfiinds  then  exhibit,  from  thofe  of  which  we  are  con- 
fcious  in  our  waking  hours?  Of  thefe  three  quef- 
tions, the  firfl  belongs  to  the  philofophy  of  the  Hu- 
man  Mind  ;  and  it  is  to  this  queftion  that  the  fol- 
lowing inquiry  is  almofi:  entirely  confined.  The  fec- 
ond  is  more  particularly  interefting  to  tlie  medical 
inquirer,  and  does  not  properly  fall  under  the  plan  of 
this  work.  The  third  feems  to  me  to  relate  to  a  fub- 
je6V,  which  is  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human 
faculties. 

It  will  be  granted,  that,  if  we  could  afcertain  the 
flate  of  the  mind  in  lleep,  fo  as  to  be  able  to  relblve 

*  Discourses  by   Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  289 

llie  various  phenomena  of  dreaming  into  a  fmalle'r 
number  of  general  principles ;  and  ftill  more,  if  we 
could  refolve  them  into  one  general  facl ;  we  fliould 
be  advanced  a  very  important  (lep  in  our  enquiries 
upon  this  fubjecl ;  even  although  we  fhould  lind  it 
impollible  to  ihew,  in  what  manner  this  change  in 
the  ftate  of  the  mind  refults  from  the  change  which 
fleep  produces  in  the  ilate  of  the  body.  Such  a  ilep 
would  at  leaft  gratify,  ro  a  certain  extent,  that  difpo- 
fition  of  our  nature  which  prompts  us  to  afcend  from 
particular  fads  to  general  laws  ;  and  which  is  the 
foundation  of  all  our  philofophical  refearches  ;  and, 
in  the  prefent  inftance,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  that 
it  carries  us  as  far  as  our  imperfedi  faculties  enable 
us  to  proceed. 

In  conducting  this  inquiry  with  refpecl  to  the  ftate 
of  the  mind  in  fleep,  it  feems  reafonable  to  expect, 
that  fome  light  may  be  obtained  from  an  examina- 
tion of  the  circumltances  which  accelerate  or  retard 
its  approach  ;  for  when  we  are  difpofed  to  reft,  it  is 
natural  to  imagine,  that  the  ftate  of  the  mind  ap- 
proaches to  its  ftate  in  fleep,  more  nearly, than  when 
we  feel  ourfelves  alive  and  aftive,  and  capable  of  ap- 
plying all  our  various  faculties  to  their  proper  pur- 
pofes. 

In  general  it  may  be  remarked,  that  the  approach 
of  fleep  is  accelerated  by  every  circumflance  which 
dioiiniflies  or  sufpends  the  exercile  of  the  mental 
powers  ;  and  is  retarded  by  every  thing  which  has 
a  contrary  tendency.  When  we  wifli  for  fleep,  we 
naturally  endeavor  to  withhold,  as  much  as  poflible, 
all  the  active  exertions  of  the  mind,  by  difengaging 
our  attention  from  every  interefting  fubjed:  of 
thought.  When  w^e  are  difpofed  to  keep  awake,  we 
naturally  fix  our  attention  on  fome  fubjccl  which  is 
caicQiated  to  afibrd  employment  to  our  inteiledlual 
powers,  or  to  roufe  and  exercife  the  acUve  principles 
of  our  nature. 

N  N 


290  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  well  known,  that  there  is  a  particular  clafs 
of  founds  which  compofe  us  to  lleep.  The  hum  of 
bees  ;  the  murmur  of  af(^untain  ;  the  reading  of  an 
uninterefting  difcourfe  ;  have  this  tendency  in  a  re- 
markable degree.  If  we  examine  this  clafs  of  founds, 
we  fliali  find  that  it  confirts  wholly  of  fuch  as  are  fit- 
ted to  withdraw  the  attention  of  the  mind  from  its 
own  thoughts  ;  and  are,  at  the  lame  time,  not 
fufficiently  interefting  to  engage  its  attention  to 
themfelves. 

It  is  alfo  matter  of  common  obfervation,  that  chil- 
dren andperfons  of  little  rcfle^lion,  who  are  chiefly 
occupied  about  fenfible  objects,  and  whofe  mental 
at^ivity  is,  in  a  great  mealure,  fufpended,  as  foon  as 
their  perceptive  powers  are  unemployed  ;  find  it  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  continue  awake,  when  they  are 
deprived  of  their  ufual  engagements.  The  fame 
thing  has  been  remarked  of  favages,  whofe  time, 
like  that  of  the  lower  animals,  is  almoft  completely 
divided  between  fleep  and  their  bodily  exertions.* 

From  a  confideration  of  thefe  facls,  it  feems  rea- 
fonable  to  conclude,  that  in  fleep  thofe  operations  of 
the  mind  are  fufpended,  which  depend  on  our  voli- 
tion ;  for  if  it  be  certain,  that  before  we  fall  afleep, 
we  muft  withhold,  as  much  as  we  are  able,  the  ex- 
ercife  of  all  our  different  powers  ;  it  is  fcarcely  to  be 
imagined,  that,  as  foon  as  fleep  commences,  thefe 
powers  fliould  again  begin  to  be  exerted.  The  mjore 
probable  concluiion  is,  that  when  we  are  defirous^ 
to  procure  fleep,  we  bring  both  mind  and  body,  as 
nearly  as  we  can,  into  that  ftate  in  which  they  are 
to  continue  after  fleep  commences.     The  difference,  , 

♦  "  The  existence  of  the  Negro  slaves  in  America,  appears  to 
**  participate  more  of  sensation  than  reflection.     To  this  must   be  : 
"  ascribed,  their   disposition  to   sleep  when  abstracted  from  their 
"  diversions,  and  unemployed  in  their  labor.     An  animal  whose 
"  body   is  at  rest,  and  who  does  not  reflect,  must  be  disposed   to  ! 
"  sleep  of  course."  Noies-  on  Firglnia,  by  Mr.  Jerekson,  p.  255-, 


^i 


OF  THE  HUMAN  .MIND.  291 

therefore,  between  the  ftate  of  the  mind  when  we 
are  inviting  fleep,  and  when  we  are  adually  aileep, 
is  this  ;  that  in  the  former  cafe,  although  its  adive 
exertions  be  fufpended,  we  can  renew  them,  if  we 
pleafe.  In  the  other  cafe,  the  will  lofes  its  influence 
over  all  our  powers  both  of  mird  and  body  ;  in  con- 
fequence  of  fome  phyfical  alteration  in  the  fyflem, 
which  we  Ihall  never,  probably,  be  able  to  ex- 
plain. 

In  order  to  illuftrate  this  conclufion  a  little  farth- 
er, it  may  be  proper  to  remark,  that  if  the  fufpen- 
fion  of  our  voluntary  operations  in  fleep  be  admitted 
as  a  fact,  there  are  only  two  fuppofitions  which  can 
be  formed  concerning  its  caufe.  The  one  is,  that  the 
power  of  volition  is  fufpended  ;  the  other,  that  the 
win  lofes  its  influence  over  thofe  faculties  of  the  mind, 
and  thofe  members  of  the  body,  which,  during  our 
waking  hours,  are  fubjeded  to  its  authority.  If  it 
can  be  fhewn,  then,  that  the  former  fuppofition  is  not 
agreeable  to  fad,  the  truth  of  th^  latter  feems  to  fol- 
low as  a  neceflary  confequence. 

1.  That  the  power  of  volition  is  not  fufpended 
duringfieep,  appears  from  the  efl'orts  which  we  are 
confcious  of  makincr  while   in  that  fituation.     We 

o 

dream,  for  example,  that  we  are  in  danger  ;  and  we 
attempt  to  call  out  for  afliftance.  The  attempt,  in- 
deed, is,  in  general,  unfuccefsful  ;  and  the  founds 
which  we  emit,  are  feeble  and  indiftincl  ;  but  this 
only  confirms,  or,  rather,  is  a  neceffary  confequence 
of  the  fuppofition,  that,  in  fleep,  the  connexion  be- 
tween the  will  and  our  voluntary  operations,  is  dis- 
turbed, or  interrupted.  The  continuai.ce  of  the 
power  of  volition  is  demonftrated  by  the  eflbrt,  how- 
ever ineffe<5^ual. 

In  hke  manner,  in  the  courfe  of  an  alarming 
dream,vve  are  fometimes  confcious  of  making  an  ex- 
ertion to  lave  ourlelvesj  by  flight, frc^m  an  apprehend- 
ed danger  ;  but  in  Ijpite  of  all  cur  efforts,  we  contin- 


2D2  liLEMJSNTS  OF  TH2  PHILOSOPHY 

uein  bed.  In  fuch  cafes,  we  commonly  dream,  that 
wc  aire  attempting  to  efcape,  and  are  prevented  by 
fome  external  obliacle  ;  but  the  facl  feems  to  be, 
that  the  body  is,  at  that  time,  not  fubject  to  the  will. 
Daring  the  diflurbed  reft  which  we  fometimes  have 
when  the  body  is  indifpofed,  the  mind  appears  to 
retain  lbm,e  pov/er  over  it ;  but  as,  even'  in  thefe 
cafes,  the  motions  which  are  made,  coniift  rather  of 
a  general  agitation  of  the  v;^hole  fyflem,  than  of  the 
regular  exertion  of  a  particular  member  of  it,  with 
a  view  to  produce  a  certain  effect  ;  it  is  reafonable 
to  conclude,  that,  in  perfectly  found  fleep,  the 
mind,  although  it  retains  the  power  of  volition,  re- 
tains no  inliuence  whatever  over  the  bodily  organs. 

In  that  particular  condition  of  the  fyftem,  which 
is  known  by  the  name  oi  incubus^  we  are  cqnfcious  of 
a  total  want  of  power  over  the  body  :  and,  I  be- 
lieve, the  common  opinion  is,  that  it  is  this  want  of 
power  whicli  diftinguifhes  the  incuka  from  all  the 
other  modifications >of  ileep.  But  the  more  probable 
fuppoflrion  feems  to  be,  that  every  fpecies  of  fleep  is 
accompanied  with  a  fufpenfion  of  the  faculty  of  vol- 
untary motion  ;  and  that  the  incubus  has  nothing  pe- 
culiar in  it  but  this,  that  the  uneaiy  fenfations  which 
areproduced  by  the  accidental  pofiure  of  the  body^ 
and  which  we  find  it  impoffible  to  remove  by  our 
own  efforts,  render  us  diftincliy  confcious  of  our  in-- 
capacity  to  move.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  the 
inflant  of  our  awaking,  and  of  our  recovering  the 
command  of  our  bodily  organs,  is  one  and  the 
fame. 

2.  The  lame  conclufion  is  confirmed  by  a  differ- 
ent view  of  the  fubjecl.  It  is  probable,  as  was  aU 
ready  obferved,  that  when  we  are  anxious  to  pro^ 
cure  fleep,  the  ftate  into  which  we  naturally  bring 
the  mind,  approaches  to  its  ftate  after  fleep  commen- 
ces. Now  it  is  nianifeft,  that  the  means  which  na* 
ture  directs  us  to  employ  on  fuch  occafions,  is  net  to 


Of  THE  HUMAN  MINlf.  293 

fufpend  the  power  of  volition,  but  to  fufpend  the  ex- 
ertion of  thofe  powers  whofe  exercife  depends  on 
volition.  If  it  were  necefTary  that  volition  fliould 
be  fufpended  before  we  fall  afleep,  it  would  be  im- 
poiUbie  for  us,  by  our  own  efforts,  to  halten  the  mo- 
ment of  reft.  The  very  fuppolition  of  fuch  eftbrts 
is  abfurd  ;  for  it  implies  a  continued  will  to  fupend 
the  ads  of  the  will. 

,  According  to  the  foregoing  do<5lrine  with  refpe^t 
to  the  ftate  of  the  mind  in  lleep,  the  effecl  which  is 
produced  on  our  mental  operations.  Is  ftrikingly  an- 
alogous to  that  which  is  produced  on  our  bodily 
powers.  From  the  obfervations  which  have  been 
already  made,  it  is  manifeft,  that  in  fleep,  the  body  is, 
in  a  very  inconfiderable  degree,  if  at  ail,  fubjedl  to 
our  command.  The  vital  and  involuntary  motions, 
however,  fufter  no  interruption,  but  go  on  as  when 
we  are  awake,  in  confequence  of  the  operation  of 
fome  caufe  unknown  to  us.  In  Hke  manner,  it  would 
appear,  that  thofe  operations  of  the  mind  which  de- 
pend on  our  volition  are  fufpended  ;  while  certain 
other  operations  are,  at  leaft,  occalionally,  carried 
on.  This  analogy  naturally  fuggefts  the  idea,  that 
all  our  mental  operations,  which  are  independent  of 
our  will,  may  continue  during  fleep  ;  and  that  the 
phenomena  of  dreaming  may,  perhaps,  be  produced 
by  thefe,  diveriified  in  their  apparent  effedls,  in  con- 
fequence of  the  fufpenfion  of  our  voluntary  pov.ers. 

If  the  appearances  which  the  mind  exhibits  during 
fleep,  are  found  to  be  explicable  on  this  general 
principle,  it  will  pollefs  all  the  evidence  which  the 
nature  of  the  fubjecf  admits  of. 

It  was  formerly  fhcwn,  that  the  train  of  thought 
in  the  mind  does  not  depend  invnediately  on  our  will, 
but  is  regulated  by  certain  general  laws  of  aflbcia- 
tion.  At  the  fame  time,  it  appeared,  that  among 
the  various  fubjcc^s  which  thus  fpontaneoufly  pre- 
fent  thcmfelves  to  our  notice,  w-©  have  the  power  of 


294  ELERftNTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

lingling  out  any  one  that  we  chufe  to  confider,  and 
of  making  it  a  particular  object  of  attention  ;  and 
that  by  doing  fo,  we  not  only  can  flop  the  train  tha^ 
would  otherwife  have  fucceeded,  but  frequently  can 
divert  the  current  of  our  thoughts  into  a  new  chan- 
nel. It  alfo  appeared,  that  we  have  power  (which 
may  be  much  improved  by  exercife)  of  recalling 
paft  occurrences  to  memory,  by  a  voluntary  effort 
of  recollection. 

The  indire6l  influence  which  the  mind  thus  pofTeff. 
es  over  the  train  of  its  thoughts  is  fo  great,  that  dur- 
ing the  whole  time  we  are  awake,  excepting  in  thofe 
cafes  in  which  we  fall  into  what  is  called  a  reverie, 
and  fufFer  our  thoughts  to  follow  their  natural 
courfe,  the  order  of  their  fucceflioil  is  always  regu- 
lated more  or  iefs  by  the  will.  The  will,  indeed,  in 
regulating  the  train  of  thought,  can  operate  only  (as 
I  already  fliewel)  by  availing  itfelf  of  the  efUblifhed 
laws  of  affociation  ;  but  ftill  it  has  the  power  of  ren- 
dering this  train  very  different  from  what  it  would 
have  been,  if  thefelaws  had  taken  place  without  its 
interference. 

From  thefe  principles,  combined  with  the  general 
fa6f  which  I  have  endeavored  to  eflablifh,  with  re- 
fpecl  to  the  ftate  of  the  mind  in  fleep,  two  obvious 
confequences  follow  :  Firfl,That  when  we  are  in  this 
fituation,  the  fucceflion  of  our  thoughts,  in  fo  far  as 
it  depends  on  the  laws  of  affociation,  may  be  carried 
on  by  the  operation  of  the  Cime  unknown  caufes  by 
which  it  is  produced  while  we  are  awake  ;  and,  Sec- 
ondly, that  the  order  of  our  thoughts,  in  thefe  two 
flates  of  the  mind,  muft  be  very  different  ;  inafmuch 
as,  in  the  one,  it  depends  folely  on  the  laws  of  affoci- 
ation ;  and  in  the  other,  on  thefe  laws,  combined 
with  our  own  voluntary  exertions. 

In  order  to  afcertain  how  far  thefe  concluiions  are 
agreeable  to  truth,  it  is  neceffary  to  compare  them 
with  the  known  phenomena  of  dreaming.  For 
which  purpofe,  I  ihall  endeavor  to  fliew,  Firft,  That 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND*  29S 

the  fucceflion  of  our  thoughts  in  fleep,  is  regulated 
by  the  fame  general  laws  of  affociation  to  which  it  is 
fubje6ted  while  we  are  awake  ;  and.  Secondly,  That 
the  circumftances  which  difcriminate  dreaming  from 
our  waking  thoughts,  are  fuch  as  muil  neceffarily 
arife  from  the  fufpeniion  of  the  influence  of  the 
will. 

I.  That  the  fucceflion  of  our  thoughts  in  fleep,  is 
regulated  by  the  fame  general  laws  of  aflociation, 
which  influence  the  mind  while  we  are  awake,  ap- 
pears from  the  following  confiderations. 

1.  Our  dreams  are  frequently  fuggefted  to  us  by 
bodily  fenfations  :  and  with  thefe,  it  is  well  known, 
from  what  we  experience  while  awake,that  particu- 
lar ideas  are  frequently  very  fl:rongly  aflbciated.  I 
have  been  told  by  a  friend,  that  having  occafion,  in 
confequence  of  an  indilpofition,  to  apply  a  bottle  of 
hot  water  to  his  feet  when  he  went  to  bed,  he  dream- 
ed that  he  was  making  a  journey  to  the  top  of 
Mount  ^tna,  and  that  he  found  the  heat  of  the 
ground  almoft  infupportable.  Another  perfon,  hav- 
ing a  blifl:er  applied  to  his  head,  dreamed  that  he  was 
fcalped  by  a  party  of  Indians.  I  believe  every  one 
who  is  in  the  habit  of  dreaming,  will  recoiled  inftan- 
ces,  in  his  own  cafe,  of  a  fimilar  nature. 

2.  Our  dreams  are  influenced  by  the  prevailing 
temper  of  the  mind  ;  and  vary,  in  their  complexion , 
according  as  our  habitual  difpoiilion,  at  the  time,  in- 
clines us  to  checrfulnefs  or  to  melancholy.  Not  that 
this  obfervation  holds  without!  exception;  but  it 
holds  fo  generally,  as  must  convince  us,  that  the 
ftate  of  our  fpirits  has  fome  effect  on  our  dreams,  as 
well  as  on  our  v/aking  thoughts.  Indeed,  in  rhe  lat- 
ter cafe,  no  lefs  than  in  the  former,  this  effect  may 
be  countcraded,  or  modified,  by  various  other  cir- 
cumdances. 

After  having  made  a  narrow  efcape  from  any  al- 
arming danger,  we  are  apt  to  awake,   in  the  courfe 


296  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

of  our  fleep,  with  fudden  ftartings  ;  imagining  that 
we  are  drowning,  or  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice. — ^ 
A  fevere  misfortune,  which  has  affected  the  mind 
deeply,  influences  our  dreams  in  a  fimilar  way  ;  and 
fuggells  to  us  a  variety  of  adventures,  analogous,  ih 
fome  meafure,  to  that  event  from  which  our  diflrefs 
arifes.  Such,  according  to  Virgil,  were  the  dreams 
of  the  f  orfaken  Dido. 

'* Agjt  ipse  farentem, 

*'  In  somis  ferus    ^neas  ;    semperque  rellnqni, 
'*  Sola  sibi  ;  semper  longam  i  icomitata  videlur, 
**•  Ire  viam,  et  Tyrlos  des^rla  quserere  terra.'* 

3.  Oar  dreams  are  influenced  by  our  prevailing 
habits  of  aflbciation  while  awake. 

In  a  former  part  of  this  work,  I  conlidered  the 
extent  of  that  power  which  the  mind  may  acquire 
over  the  train  of  its  thoughts  j  and  I  obferved,  that 
thofe  intelledual  diver fities  among  men,  which  we 
commonly  refer  to  peculiarities  of  genius,  are,  at 
lead  in  a  great  meafure,  refoivable  into  difi'erences 
in  their  habits  of  afllKiation.  One  man  poflefles  a 
rich  anci  beautiful  fancy,  which  is  at  all  times  obedi- 
ent to  liis  will.  Another  poflefles  a  quicknefs  of  re- 
coiieclion,  which  enables  him,  at  a  moment's  v.'arn- 
ing,  to  bring  together  all  the  refults  of  his  pafl:  expe- 
rience, and  of  his  part  refleclions,  which  can  be  of  ufe 
for  illuftrating  any  propofed  fubjecc.  A  third  can, 
without  effort,  coiled  his  attention  to  the  moil  ab- 
ftract  queftions  in  philofophy ;  can  perceive,  at  a 
glance,  the  fliortefl  and  the  mofl:  effedual  procefs 
for  arriving  at  the  truth  ;  and  can  banifli  from  his 
mind  every  extraneous  idea,  which  fancy  or  cafual 
aflbciation  may  fuggefl,  to  diflract  his  thoughts,  or  to 
miflead  his  judgment.  A  fourth  unites  all  thefe  pow- 
ers in  a  capacity  of  perceiving  truth  with  an  almoft 
intuitive  rapidity  ;  and  in  an  eloquence  which  ena- 
bles him  to  command,  at  pleafure,   whatever  his 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  29? 

memory  and  his  fancy  can  fupply,  to  illu (Irate  and  to 
adorn  it.  The  occalional  exercife  which  fuch  men 
make  of  their  powers,  may  undoubtedly  be  faid,  in 
one  fenfe,  to  be  unpremeditated  or  uniludied  ;  but 
they  all  indicate  previous  habits  of  meditation  or 
ftudy,  as  unqueftionably,  as  the  dexterity  of  the  ex- 
pert accountant,  or  the  rapid  execution  of  the  profef- 
fional  mulician. 

From  what  has  been  faid,  it  is  evident,  that  a  train 
of  thought  which,  in  one  man,  would  require  a  pain- 
ful effort  of  ftudy,  may,  in  another,  be  almoft  Spon- 
taneous ;  nor  is  it  to  be  doubted,  that  the  reveries 
of.iludious  men,  even  when  they  allow,  as  much  as 
they  can,  their  thoughts  to  follow  their  own  courfe, 
are  more  or  lefs  connected  together  by  thofe  princi- 
ples of  aflbciation,  which  their  favorite  purfuits  tend 
more  particularly  to  ftrengthen. 

The  influence  of  the  fame  habits  may  be  traced 
diftindly  in  fleep.  There  are  probably  few  mathe- 
maticians, who  have  not  dreamed  of  an  intereding 
problem,  and  who  have  not  even  fancied  that  they 
were  profecuting  the  inveftigation  of  it  with  much 
fuccefs.  They  whofe  ambition  leads  them  lo  the 
ftudy  of  eloquence,  are  frequently  confcious,  during 
fleep,  of  a  renewal  of  their  daily  occupations  ;  and 
fometimes  feel  themfelves  pofTelTed  of  a  fluency  of 
fpeech,  which  they  never  experienced  before.  The 
Poet,  in  his  dreams,  is  tranfported  into  Elyiium,  and 
leaves  the  vulgar  and  unfatisfadory  enjoyments  of 
humanity,  to  dwell  in  thofe  regions  of  enchantment 
and  rapture,  which  have  been  created  by  the  divine 
imaginations  of  Virgil  and  of  Taffo. 

"  And  hither  Morpheus  sent  his  kindest  dreams, 
**  Raising  a  world  of  gayer  tinct  and  grace  ; 
**  O'er  which  were  shadowy  cast  Elysian  gleams, 
"  That  play'd,  in  waving  lights,  from  place  to  pUw, 
*^  And  shed  a  roseate  smile  on  Nature's  face. 

Oo 


29^8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Not  Titian's  pencil  e'er  could  so  array, 
*^  So  fieece  with  clouds  the  pure  etherial  space; 
*'  Nor  could  it  e'er  such  melting  forms  display, 
"  As  loose  on  flowery  beds  all  langaishingly  lay. 

"  No,  fair  illusions  !'  artful  phantoms,  no  ! 
"  My  muse  will  not  attempt  your  fairy  land  : 
**  She  has  no  colours,  that  like  your's  can  glow  ; 
*'  To  catch  your  vivid  scenes,  too  gross  her  hand."* 

As  a  farther  proof  that  the  fucceflion  of  our 
thoughts  in  dreaming,  is  influenced  by  our  prevail- 
ing habits  of  alTociation  ;  it  may  be  remarked,  that 
the  fcenes  and  occurrences  which  mod  frequently 
prefent  themfelves  to  the  mind  while  we  are  aileej), 
are  the  fcenes  and  occurrences  of  childhood  and  early 
youth.  The  facility  of  alTociation  is  then  much 
greater  than  in  more  advanced  years  ;  and  although, 
during  the  day,  the  memory  of  the  events  thus  aiTo- 
ciated,  may  be  banilhed  by  the  objeds  and  purfuits 
which  preis  upon  our  fenfes,  it  retains  a  more  perma- 
nent hold  of  the  mind  than  any  of  our  fubfequent  ac- 
quifitions  ;  and,  like  the  knowledge  which  we  poflefs 
of  our  mother  tongue,  is,  as  it  were,  interwoven  and 
incorporated  with  all  its  moil  effential  habits.  Ac- 
cordinglyy  in  old  men,  whofe  thoughts  are,  in  a 
great  meafure,  difengaged  from  the  world,  the 
tranfactions  of  their  middle  age,  which  once  feemed 
fo  important,  are  often  obliterated  j  while  the  mind 
dwells,  as  in  a  dream,  on  the  fports  and  the  compan- 
ions of  their  infancy. 

I  (hall  only  obferve  farther,  on  this  head,  rhat  in 
our  dreams,  as  well  as  when  awake,  we  occafionally 
make  ufe  of  words  as  an  inftrument  of  thought. 
Such  dreams,  however,  do  not  affect  the  mind  with 
fuch  emotions  of  pleafare  and  of  pain,  as  thofe  in 
which  the  imagination  is  occupied  with  particular 
objects  of  fenfe.    The  effect  of  philofophical  fludies, 

*  Castle  of  Indolence. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  f M 

in  habituating  the  mind  to  the  almoft  conftant  em- 
ptoyment  of  this  inflrument,  and  of  confequence,  its 
effect  in  weakening  the  imagination,  was  formerly- 
remarked.  If  I  am  not  millaken,  the  influence  of 
thefe  circumftances  may  alfo  be  traced  in  the  hiftory 
of  our  dreams  ;  which,  in  youth,  commonly  involve, 
in  a  much  greater  degree,  the  exercife  of  imagination  ; 
and  afFedt  the  mind  with  much  more  powerful  emo- 
tions, than  when  we  begin  to  employ  our  maturer 
faculties  in  more  general  and  abftrad  fpeculations. 

From  thefe  different  obfervatioiiS,  we  are  author- 
ifed  to  conclude,  that  the  fame  laws  of  alfociation 
which  relgulate  the  train  of  our  thoughts  while  we 
are  awake,  continue  to  operate  during  ileep.  I  now 
proceed  to  confider,  how  far  the  circumftances  which 
difcriminate  dreaming  from  our  waking  thoughts, 
correfpond  with  thole  which  might  be  expected  to 
refult  from  the  fufpenflorj^of  the  influence  of  the  will. 

1.  If  the  influence  of  the  will  be  fufpended  du- 
ring fleep,  all  our  voluntary  operations,  fuch  as  re- 
collection, reafoning,  &c.    muft  alfo  be  fufpended. 

That  this  really  is  the  cafe,  the  extravagance  and 
inconfiftency  of  our  dreams  are  fufHcient  proofs.  We 
frequently  confound  together  times  and  places  the 
molt  remote  from  each  other  ;  and,  in  the  courfe  of 
the  fame  dream,  conceive  the  fame  perfon  as  exift- 
ing  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  Sometimes  we 
imagine  ourfelves  converfing  with  a  dead  friend, 
without  remembering  the  circumftances  of  his  death, 
although,  perhaps,  it  happened  but  a  few  days  be- 
fore, and  affedted  us  deeply  All  this  proves  clearly, 
that  the  fubjeds  which  then  occupy  our  thoughts, 
are  luch  as  prefent  themfelves  to  the  mind  fpontane- 
oufly  ;  and  that  we  have  no  power  of  employing 
our  reafon  in  comparing  together  the  different  parts 
of  our  dreams  ;  or  even  of  exerting  an  a(ft  of  recol- 
le<^ion,  in  order  to  afcertain  how  far  they  are  con- 
fiftent  and  poflible. 


30®  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

The  proceffes  of  reafoning,  in  which  we  fometimes 
fancy  ourfelves  to  be  engaged  during  lleep,  furnifh 
no  exception  to  the  foregoing  obfervation  ;  for  al- 
though every  fuch  procefs,  the  firft  time  we  form  it, 
implies  volition  ;  and,  in  particular,  implies  a  recol- 
lection of  the  premifos,  till  we  arrive  at  the  conclu- 
iion  ;  yet  when  a  number  of  truths  have  been  often 
prefented  to  us  as  necelfarily  connected  with  each 
other,  this  feries  may  afterwards  pafs  through  the 
mind,  according  to  the  laws  of  affociation,  without 
any  more  activity  on  our  part,  than  in  thofe  trains 
of  thought  which  are  the  moft  loofe  and  incoherent. 
Nor  is  this  mere  theory.  I  may  venture  to  appeal 
to  the  confcioufnefs  of  every  man  accuftomed  to 
dream,  whether  his  reafonings  during  fleep  do  not 
feem  to  be  carried  on  without  any  exertion  of  his 
wiij  ;  and  with  a  degree  of  facility,  of  which  he  was 
never  confcious  while  awake.  Mr.  Addifon,  in  one 
of  his  Spedators,  has  made  this  obfervation  ;  and 
his  teftimony,  in  the  prefent  inftance,  is  of  the  greater 
weight,  that  he  had  no  particular  theory  on  the  fub- 
ject  to  fupport.  "  There  is  not,*'  (fays  he,)  "  a  more 
*'  painful  action  of  the  mind  than  invention,  yet  in 
*'  dreams,  it  works  with  that  eafe  and  adivity,  that 
*'  we  are  not  fenfible  when  the  faculty  is  employed. 
''  For  inftance,  I  believe  every  one,  fome  time  or 
*'  other,  dreams  that  he  is  reading  papers,  books,  or 
*'  letters  ;  in  which  cafe  the  invention  prompts  fo 
"  readily,  that  the  mind  is  impoled  on,  and  mif- 
*'  takes  its  own  fuggeftions  for  the  compofition  of 
**  another."* 

2.  If  the  influence  of  the  will  during  fleep  be  fuf- 
pended,  the  mind  will  remain  as  paifive,  while  it? 
thoughts  change  from  one  fubjecl  to  another,  as  it 
does  during  our  waking  hours  while  different  per^ 
cepK:ible  objects  are  prefented  to  our  fenf©s. 

*  1^0.  487. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  SOI 

Of  this  paflive  It^ite  of  the  mind  in  our  dreams,  it 
is  unneceflary  to  multiply  proofs  ;  as  it  has  always 
been  confidered  as  one  of  the  mofi:  extraordinary 
circumiiances  with  which  they  are  accompanied.  If 
our  dreams,  as  well  as  our  waking  thoughts,  were 
fubjecl  to  the  will,  is  it  not  natural  to  conclude,  that, 
in  the  one  cafe,  as  well  as  in  the  other,  we  would  en- 
deavor to  banifli,  as  much  as  we  could,  every  idea 
which  had  a  tendency  to  difturb  us  ;  and  detain 
thofe  only  which  we  found  agreeable  ?  So  far,  how- 
ever, is  this  power  over  our  thoughts  from  being 
exercifed,  that  we  are  frequently  opprelTed,  in  fpite 
of  all  our  efforts  to  the  contrary,  with  dreams  which 
affedt  us  with  the  moft  painful  emotions.  And,  in- 
deed, it  is  matter  of  vulgar  remark,  that  our  dreams 
are,  in  every  cafe,  involuntary  on  our  part  ;  and 
that  they  appear  to  be  obtruded  on  us  by  fome  ex- 
lernal  caufe.  This  fad:  appeared  fo  unaccountable  to 
the  late  Mr.  Baxter,  that  it  gave  rife  to  his  very 
whimfical  theory,  in  which  he  afcribes  dreams  to 
the  immediate  influence  of  feparate  fpirits  on  the 
mind. 

3.  If  the  influence  of  the  will  be  fufpended  during 
fleep,  the  conceptions  which  we  then  form  of  fenfible 
objeds  will  be  attended  with  a  belief  of  their  real  ex- 
iftence,  as  much  as  the  perception  of  the  fame  objeds 
is  while  we  are  awake. 

In  treating  of  the  power  of  Conception,  I  former- 
ly obferved,  that  our  belief  of  the  feparate  and  inde- 
pendent exiftence  of  the  objects  of  our  perceptions, 
is  the  refult  of  experience  ;  which  teaches  us  that 
thefe  perceptions  do  not  depend  on  our  will.  If  I 
open  my  eyes,  I  cannot  prevent  myfelf  from  feeing 
the  proipccl  before  me.  The  cafe  is  different  with 
refpect  to  our  conceptions.  While  they  occupy  the 
mind,  to  the  exclufion  of  every  thing  elfe,  I  endeav- 
ored to  fhew,  that  they  are  always  accompanied 
with  belief  j  but  as  we  can  banifli  them  from  the 


502  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

mind,  during  our  waking  hours,  at  pleafure  4  and 
as  the  momentary  belief  which  they  produce,  is  con- 
tinually checked  by  the  furrounding  objeds  of  our 
perceptions,  we  learn  to  confider  them  as  fictions  of 
our  own  creation  ;  and,  excepting  in  fome  accident- 
al cafes,  pay  no  regard  to  them  in  the  condud:  of 
life.  If  the  dodrine,  however,  formerly  ftated  with 
refped  to  conception  be  juft,  and  if,  at  the  fame 
time,  it  be  allowed,  that  deep  fufpends  the  influence 
of  the  will  over  the  train  of  our  thoughts,  we  fhould 
naturally  be  led  to  expect,  that  the  fame  belief  which 
accompanies  perceptions  while  we  are  awake,  fliould 
accompany  the  conceptions  which  occur  to  us  in  our 
dreams.  It  is  fcarcely  neceflliry  for  me  to  remark, 
how  ftrikingly  this  conclufion  coincides  with  ac- 
knowledged fads. 

May  it  not  be  confidered  as  fome  confirmation  of 
the  foregoing  do6fcrine,  that  when  opium  fails  in 
producing  complete  fleep,  it  commonly  produces  one 
of  the  effects  of  fleep,  by  fufpending  the  adivity  of 
the  mind,  and  throwing  it  into  a  reverie  ;  and  that 
•while  we  are  in  this  ftate,  our  conceptions  frequent- 
ly aiFe<^  us  nearly  in  the  fame  manner,  as  if  the  ob- 
jefts  conceived  were  prefentto  our  fenfes  ?* 

Another  circumflance  with  refped  to  our  concep- 
tions during  fleep,  deferves  our  notice.  As  the  fub- 
jecls  which  we  then  think  upon  occupy  the  mind 
exclufively  ;  and  as  the  attention  is  not  diverted  by 
the  objeds  of  our  external  fenfes,  our  conceptions 
muft  be  proportionably  lively  and  fteady.  Every 
perfon  knows  how  faint  the  conception  is  which  we 
form  of  any  thing,  with  our  eyes  open,  in  compari- 
fon  of  what  we  can  form  with  our  eyes  fliut  :  and 
that,  in  proportion  as  we  can  fufpend  the  exercife  of 
all  our  other  fenfes,  the  livelinefs  of  our  conception 

*  See  Ihe  Baron  de  Tott's   Account  of  the  Opiuai-takers  at 
Constantinople. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  50S 

increafes.  To  this  caufe  is  to  be  afcribed,  in  part, 
the  efFed  which  the  dread  of  fpirits  in  the  dark,  has 
on  fome  perfons,  who  are  fully  convinced  in  fpecula- 
tion,  that  their  apprehenfions  are  groundlefs  ;  and  to 
this  alfo  is  owing,  the  effect  of  any  accidental  per- 
ception  in  giving  them  a  momentary  relief  from 
their  terrors.  Hence  the  remedy  which  nature 
points  out  to  us,  when  we  find  ourfelves  overpow- 
ered by  imagination.  If  every  thing  around  us  be 
lilent,  we  endeavor  to  create  a  noife,  by  fpeaking  a- 
loud,  or  beating  with  our  feet ;  that  is,  we  flrive 
to  divert  the  attention  from  the  fubjeds  of  our  im- 
agination, by  prefenting  an  objedt  to  our  powers  of 
perception.  The  conclufion  which  I  draw  from 
thefe  obfervations  is,  that,  as  there  is  no  ftate  of  the 
body  in  which  our  perceptive  powers  are  fo  totally 
unemployed  as  in  fleep,  it  is  natural  to  think,  that 
the  objects  which  we  conceive  or  imagine,  muft  then 
make  an  impreffion  on  the  mind,  beyond  compari- 
fon  greater,  than  any  thing  of  which  we  can  have 
experience  while  awake. 

From  thefe  principles  may  be  derived  a  fimple, 
and,  I  think,  a  fatisfadory  explanation  of  what  fome 
writers  have  reprefented  as  the  moft  myfterious  of 
all  the  circumftances  conneded  with  dreaming  ;  the 
inaccurate  eftimates  we  are  apt  to  form  of  Time^ 
while  we  are  thus  employed  'y- — an  inaccuracy  which 
fometimes  extends  fo  far,  as  to  give  to  a  fingle  in- 
fiance,  the  appearance  of  hours,  or  perhaps  of  days. 
A  fudden  noife,  for  example,  fuggeils  a  dream  con- 
neded  with  that  perception  ;  and,  the  moment  af- 
terwards, this  noife  has  the  effed  of  awaking  us ;  and 
yet,  during  that  momentary  interval,  a  long  feries 
of  circumftances  has  paffed  before  the  imagination. 
The  ftory  quoted  by  Mr.  Addifon*  from  the  Turkifli 
Tales,  of  the  Miracle  wrought  by  a  Mahometan 

*   SPEfTATOR,  No.   94, 


304  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Doctor,  to  convince  an  infidel  Sultan,  is,  in  fuch  cafes, 
»early  verified. 

The  hicts  I  allude  to  at  prefent  are  generally  ex- 
plained by  fuppofing,  that,  in  our  dreams,  the  rapdi- 
ity  of  thought  is  greater  than  while  we  are  awake  : 
but  there  is  no  neceflity  for  having  recourfe  to  fuch 
a  fuppofition.  The  rapidity  of  thought  is,  at  all 
times  fuch,  that,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  a  crowd 
of  ideas  may  pafs  before  us,  to  which  it  would  re- 
quire a  long  difcourfe  to  give  utterance  ;  and  tranf- 
adions  may  be  conceived,  which  it  would  re- 
quire days  to  realize.  But,  in  fleep,  the  conceptions 
of  the  mind  are  mifl:aken  for  realities  ;  and  there- 
fore, our  efl:imates  of  time  will  be  formed,  not  accor- 
ding to  our  experience  of  the  rapidity  of  thought, 
but  according  to  our  experience  of  the  time  requi- 
fite  for  realizing  what  we  conceive.  Something 
perfe<flly  analogous  to  this  may  be  remarked  in  the 
perceptions  we  obtain  by  the  fenfe  of  fight.  When 
I  look  into  a  ftiew-box,  where  the  deception  is  im- 
perfect, I  fee  only  a  fet  of  paltry  daubings  of  a  few 
inches  diameter  ;  but,  if  the  reprefentation  be  exe- 
cuted with  fo  much  fkill,  as  to  convey  to  me  the  idea 
of  a  diftant  profpect,  every  object  before  me  fwells 
in  its  dimenfions,  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of 
fpace  which  I  conceive  it  to  occupy  ;  and  what  feem- 
ed  before  to  be  fhut  up  within  the  limits  of  a  fmall 
wooden  frame,  is  magnified,  in  my  apprehendon, 
to  an  immenfe  landfcape  of  woods,  rivers,  and  moun- 
tains. 

The  phenomena  which  we  have  hitherto  explain- 
ed, take  place  when  lleep  feems  to  be  complete ;  that 
is,  when  the  mind  lofes  its  influence  over  all  thofe 
powers  whofe  exercife  depends  on  its  will.  There 
are,  however,  many  cafes  in  which  lleep  feems  to 
be  partial  ;  that  is,  when  the  mind  lofes  its  influ- 
ence overy^;??^  powers,  and  retains  it  over  others.  In 
the  cafe  of  the  fonuumbuli^  it  retains  its  power  over 
the  limbs,  but  it  poireiTes  no  influence  over  its  own 


OP  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S05 

thoughts,  and  fcarcely  any  over  the  body  ;  excepting 
thofe  particular  members  of  it  which  are  employed 
in  walking.  In  madnefs,  the  power  of  the  will  over 
the  body  remains  undiminifhed,  while  its  influence 
in  regulating  the  train  of  thought  is  in  a  great  meaf- 
ure  fufpended  ;  either  in  confequence  of  a  particu- 
lar idea,  which  engrolTes  the  attention,  to  the  exclu- 
lion  of  every  thing  elfe,  and  which  we  find  it  impof- 
fible  to  banifh  by  our  efforts  ;  or  in  confequence  of 
our  thoughts  fucceeding  each  other  with  fuch  rapid- 
ity, that  we  are  unable  to  flop  the  train.  In  both 
of  thefe  kinds  of  madnefs,  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
that  the  conceptions  or  imaginations  of  the  mind  be- 
coming independent  of  our  will,  they  are  apt  to  be 
miflaken  for  aclual  perceptions,  and  to  affecl  us  in 
the  fame  manner. 

By  means  of  this  fuppofition  of  a  partial  fleep,  any 
apparent  exceptions  which  the  hiflory  of  dreams 
may  afford  to  the  general  principles  already  ftated, 
admit  of  an  eafy  explanation. 

Upon  reviewing  the  foregoing  obfervations,  it 
does  not  occur  to  me,  that  I  have  in  any  inflance 
tranfgreffed  thofe  rules  of  philofophifing,  which, 
fince  the  time  of  Newton,  are  commonly  appealed  to, 
as  the  tefls  of  found  invefligation.  For,  in  the  firfi 
place,  I  have  not  fuppofed  any  caufes  which  are  not 
known  to  exifl  ;  and  fecondly,  I  have  Ihewn,  that 
the  phenomena  under  our  confideration  are  necefla- 
ry  confequences  of  the  caufes  to  which  I  have  refer- 
red them.  I  have  not  fuppofed,  that  the  mind  ac- 
quires in  fleep,  any  new  faculty  of  which  we  are  not 
confcious  while  awake  ;  but  only  (what  we  know 
to  be  a  fad:)  that  it  retains  fome  of  its  powers,  while 
the  exercife  of  others  is  fufpended :  and  1  have  d^ 
duced  fynthetically,the  known  phenomena  of  dream- 
ing, from  the  operation  of  a  particular  clafs  of  our 
faculties,  unconnected  by  the  operation  of  another. 
I  flatter  myfelf,  therefore,  that  this  inquiry  will  not 
P  p 


S0&  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

only  throw  fome  light  on  the  ftate  of  the  mind  in 
lleep  ;  but  that  it  will  have  a  tendency  to  illuftrate 
the  mutual  adaptation  and  fubferviency  which  exifls 
among  the  different  parts  of  our  conftitution,  when 
we  are  in  a  complete  pofleflion  of  all  the  faculties  and 
principles  which  belong  to  our  nature.* 


CHAPTER  FIFTH, 


'    PART  SECOND. 

Of  the  Influence  of  Aflbciation  on  the  Intelleduai 
and  on  the  Adive  Powers. 


SECTION  I. 

Of  the  Influence  of  cafual  AJfociations  on  our  ffeculativf 
Conclufions. 

THE  Aflbciation  of  Ideas  has  a  tendency  to  warp 
our  fpeculative  opinions  chiefly  in  the  three  follow- 
ing ways  : 

Firll,  by  blending  together  in  our  apprehenfions, 
things  which  are  really  diftinci:  in  their  nature  ;  fo 
as  to  introduce  perplexity  and  error  into  every  pro- 
cefs  of  reafoning  in  which  they  are  involved. 

Secondly,  by  mifleading  us  in  thofe  anticipations 
of  the  future  from  the  pall,  which  our  conltitutioH 
difpoles  us  to  form,  and  which  are  the  great  founda- 
tion of  our  condud  in  life. 

Thirdly,  by   conneding  in  the  mind   erroneous 

*  See  Note  [O.j 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  507 

©pinions,  with  truths  which  irrefiftibly  command 
our  afl'ent,  and  which  vve  feel  to  be  of  importance  to 
human  happinefs. 

A  (hort  iliuftration  of  thefe  remarks,  will  throw 
light  on  the  origin  of  various  prejudices  ;  and  may, 
perhaps,  fuggeft  fome  practical  hints  with  refped  to 
the  coiidud  of  the  underitanding, 

I.  I  formerly  had  occafion  to  m.ention  feveral  in- 
ftances  of  very  intimate  affociations  formed  between 
two  idevis  which  have  no  necefTary  connection  with 
each  other.  One  of  the  moft  remarkable  is,  that 
which  exifts  in  €very  pcrfon's  mind  between  the  no- 
tions of  colour  and  of  extenfion.  The  former  of  thefe 
words  exprefles  (at  leail  in  the  fenfe  in  which  we 
commonly  employ  it)  a  fenfation  in  the  mind  ;  the 
latter  denotes  a  quality  of  an  external  obje<5l ;  fo  that 
there  is,  in  fact,  no  more  conn^dion  between  the 
two  notions  than  between  thofe  of  pain  and  of  fo- 
lidity  ;*  and  yet,  in  confequence  of  our  always  per- 
ceiving exteniion,  at  the  lame  time  at  which  the  fen- 
fation of  colour  is  excited  in  the  mind,  we  find  it 
impofTible  to  think  of  that  fenfation,  without  con- 
ceiving exteniion  along  with  it. 

Another  intimate  aflbciation  is  formed  in  every 
mind  between  the  ideas  oifpace  and  of  time.  When 
we  think  of  an  interval  of  duration,  we  always  con- 
ceive it  as  foniething  analogous  to  a  line,  and  we 
apply  the  fame  language  to  both  lubjecls.  Wefpeak 
of  a  long  2ind /hort  time,  as  weW  oi 2  long  Tindjhort  dift- 
ance,  and  we  are  not  confcious  of  any  metaphor  in 
doing  fo.  Nay,  fo  very  perfect  does  the  analogy  ap- 
pear to  us,  that  Bofcovich  mentions  it  as  a  curious 
circumftance,  that  extcnfum  fhould  have  three  di- 
menfions,  and  duration  only  one. 

This  apprehended  analogy  seems  be  founded 
wholly  on  an  afTociation  between  the  ideas  of  fpacf 

*  JSee  Note  [P.] 


308  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

and  of  time,  arifing  from  our  always  meafuring  the 
one  of  thefe  quantities  by  the  other.  We  measure 
time  bv  motion,  and  motion  by  extenfion.  In  an 
hour,  the  hand  of  the  clock  moves  over  a  certain 
fpace  ;  in  two  hours,  over  double  the  fpace  ;  and 
fo  on.  Hence  the  ideas  of  fpace  and  of  time  become 
very  intimately  united,  and  we  apply  to  the  latter 
the  words  long  ^udjhort^  before  and  after ^  in  the  fame 
manner  as  to  the  former. 

The  apprehended  analogy  between  the  relation 
which  the  different  notes  in  the  fcale  of  mufic  bear 
to  each  other,  and  the  relation  of  fuperiority  and  in- 
feriority, in  refpe61:  of  polition,  among  material  ob- 
jects, arifes  alfo  from  an  accidental  afibciation  of 
ideas. 

What  this  afibciation  is  founded  upon,  I  fhall  not 
take  upon  me  to  determine  ;  but  that  it  is  the  effed: 
of  accident,  appears  clearly  from  this,  that  it  has  not 
only  been  confined  to  particular  ages  and  nations  ; 
but  is  the  very  reverfe  of  an  affociation  which  was 
once  equally  prevalent.  It  is  obferved  by  Dr.  Greg- 
ory, in  the  preface  to  his  edition  of  Euclid*s  works, 
that  the  more  ancient  of  the  Greek  writers  looked 
upon  grave  founds  as  high,  and  acute  ones  as  low  ; 
and  that  the  prefent  mode  of  expreliion  on  that 
fubjed,  was  an  innovation  introduced  at  a  later  pe- 
riod.* 

In  the  inllances  which  have  now  been  mentioned, 
our  habit  of  combining  the  notions  of  two  things, 
becomes  fo  flrong,  that  we  find  it  impoflible  to  think 
of  the  one,  without  thinking  at  the  fame  time  of 
the  other.  Various  other  examples  of  the  fame  fpe- 
cies  of  combination,  although,  perhaps,  not  alto* 
gether  fo  flriking  in  degree,  might  eafily  be  collected 
from  the  fubjecls  about  which  our  metaphyfical  fpec- 
wlations  are  employed.     T^Qfenfatms^  for  inflance, 

«  See  Note  [Q.] 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.   ,  SOD 

which  are  excited  in  the  mind  by  external  object!?, 
and  the  perceptions  of  material  qualities  whicli  follow 
thefe  I'enfations,  are  to  be  diftinguifhed  from  each 
other  only  by  long  habits  of  patient  reflecfion.  A 
clear  conception  of  this  diftin6lion  may  be  regarded 
as  the  key  to  all  Dr.  Reid's  reafonings  concerning 
the  procels  of  nature  in  perception  ;  and,  till  it  has 
once  been  rendered  familiar  to  the  reader,  a  great 
part  of  his  writings  muft  appear  unfatisfacffory  and 
obfcure. — In  truth,  our  progrefs  in  the  philofophy  of 
the  human  mind  depends  much  more  on  that  fevere 
and  difcriminating  judgment,  which  enables  us  to 
feparate  ideas  which  nature  or  habit  have  intimate- 
ly combined,  than  on  acutenefs  of  reafoning  or  fer- 
tility of  invention.  And  hence  it  is,  that  metaphyf- 
ical  ftudies  are  the  beft  of  all  preparations  for  thofe 
philofophical  purfuits  which  relate  to  the  condud:  of 
life.  In  none  of  thefe  do  we  meet  with  cafual  com- 
binations fo  intiaiate  and  indiflbluble  as  thofe  which 
occur  in  metaphylics  ;  and  he  who  has  been  accuf- 
tomed  to  fuch  difcriminations  as  this  fcience  requires, 
will  not  eifily  be  impoled  on  by  that  confufion  of 
ideas,  which  warp  the  judgments  of  the  multitude 
in  moral,  religious,  and  political  inquiries. 

From  the  fads  which  have  now  been  flated,  it  is 
cafy  to  conceive  the  manner  in  which  the  affociation 
of  ideas  has  a  tendency  to  millead  the  judgment,  in 
the  firft  of  the  three  cafes  already  enumerated. 
When  two  fubjecb  of  thought  are  fo  intimately  con- 
nefted  together  in  the  mind,  that  we  find  it  fcarcely 
poflible  to  confider  them  apart  ;  it  muft  require  no 
common  efforts  of  attention,  to  conduct  any  procefs 
of  reafoning  which  relates  to  either  I  formerly 
took  notice  of  the  errors  to  which  we  are  expofed 
in  confequence  of  the  ambiguity  of  words  ;  and  of 
the  neceflity  of  frequently  checking  and  correcting 
our  general  reafonings  by  means  of  particular  ex- 
amples y  but  in  the  cafes  to  which  I  allude  at  prefent. 


310  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PmLOSOPHY 

there  is  (if  I  may  ufe  the  expreffion)  an  ambiguity 
of  things  ;  fo  that  even  when  the  mind  is  occupied 
about  particulars,  it  finds  it  difficult  to  feparate  the 
proper  object  of  its  attention  from  others  with  which 
it  has  been  long  accuftomed  to  blend  them.  The 
cafes,  indeed,  in  which  fuch  obftinate  and  invincible 
affociations  are  formed  among  different  fubjefls  of 
thought,  are  not  very  numerous,  and  occur  chiefly 
in  our  metaphyfical  refearches  ;  but  in  every  mind, 
cafual  combinations,  of  an  inferior  degree  of  ftrength, 
have  an  habitual  effed  in  difturbino:  the  intellectual 
powers,  and  are  not  to  be  conquered  without  per- 
fevering  exertions,  of  which  few  men  are  capable. 
The  obvious  efFe<5ls  which  this  tendency  to  combina- 
tion produces  on  the  judgment,  in  confounding  to- 
gether thofe  ideas  which  it  is  the  province  of  the 
nietaphyfician  to  diflinguifli,  fufficiently  illuftrate  the 
mode  of  its  operation  in  thofe  numerous  inftances, 
in  which  its  influence,  though  not  fo  complete  and 
ftriking,  is  equally  real,  and  far  more  dangerous. 

II.  The  aflbciation  of  ideas  is  a  fource  of  fpecula- 
tive  error,  by  mifleading  us  in  thofe  anticipations  of 
the  future  from  the  paft,  which  are  the  foundation 
of  our  conduct  in  life. 

The  great  objed:  of  philofophy,  as  I  have  already 
remarked  more  than  once,  is  to  afcertain  the  laws 
which  regulate  the  fucceffion  of  events,  both  in  the 
phyfical  and  moral  worlds  ;  in  order  that,  when 
called  upon  to  act  in  any  particular  combination  of 
circumflances,  we  may  be  enabled  to  anticipate  the 
probable  courfe  of  nature  from  our  paft  experience 
and  to  regulate  our  condu(5t  accordingly. 

As  a  knowledge  of  the  eftabUfhed  connexions 
among  events,  is  the  foundation  of  fagacity  and  of 
Ikill,  both  in  the  pracftical  arts,  and  in  the  conduct  of 
life,  nature  has  not  only  given  to  all  men  a  ftrong 
difpofition  to  remark,  with  attention  and  curiofity, 
Aofe  phenomena  which  have  been  obferved  to  hap- 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  $]  t 

jpen  nearly  at  the  fame  time  ;  but  has  beautifully 
adapted  to  the  uniformity  of  her  own  operations, 
the  laws  of  affociation  in  the  human  mind.  By  ren- 
dering contiguity  in  iinie  one  of  the  ftrongeft  of  our 
affociating  principles,  (he  has  conjoined  together  in 
our  thoughts,  the  fame  events  which  we  have  found 
conjoined  in  our  experience,  and  has  thus  accommo- 
dated (without  any  effort  on  our  part)  the  order  of 
our  ideas  to  that  fcene  in  which  we  are  deftined  to 

aa. 

The  degree  of  experience  which  is  neceffary  for 
the  prefervation  of  our  animal  exiftence,  is  acquired 
by  all  men  without  any  particular  efforts  of  lludy. 
The  laws  of  nature,  which  it  is  moft  material  for  us 
to  know,  are  expofed  to  the  immediate  obfervation 
of  our  fenfes  ;  and  eftablifb,  by  means  of  the  princi- 
ple of  affociation,  a  correfponding  order  in  our 
thoughts,  long  before  the  dawn  of  reafon  and  re- 
flexion ;  or  at  leaft  long  before  that  period  of  child- 
hood, to  which  our  recollection  afterwards  extends. 

This  tendency  of  the  mind  to  affociate  together 
events  which  have  been  prefented  to  it  nearly  at  the 
fame  time  j  although,  on  the  vvhole,  it  is  attended 
with  infinite  advantages,  yet,  like  many  other  prin- 
ciples of  our  nature,  may  occafionally  be  a  fource  of 
inconvenience,  unlefs  we  avail  ourfelves  of  our  rea- 
Ibn  and  of  experience  in  keeping  it  under  proper  re- 
gulation. Among  the  various  phenomena  which 
are  continually  pafling  before  us,  there  is  a  great 
proportion,  whofe  vicinity  in  time  does  not  indicate 
%  conftancy  of  conjunction  ;  and  unlefs  we  be  care- 
ful to  make  the  diiHndi(;n  between  thefe  two  claffes 
of  connexions,  tlie  order  of  our  ideas  will  be  apt  t(» 
correfpond  with  the  one  as  well  as  with  the  c;ther  ; 
and  our  unenlightened  experience  of  tlie  pad,  will 
fill  the  mind,  in  numbericfs  inllances,  with  vain  ex- 
pecl^itions,  or  with  groundlefs  alarms,  conceriiing  the 
future.     This  difpofition  to  confound  together  acci- 


312  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

dental  and  permanent  connedlions,  is  one  great 
fource  of  popular  fup-  rftitions.  Hence  the  regard 
which  is  paid  to  unlucky  days  ;  to  unlucky  colours ; 
and  to  the  influence  of  the  planets  ;  apprehenfions 
which  render  human  life,  to  many,  a  continued  fe- 
ries  of  abfurd  terrors.  Lucretius  compares  them  to 
thofe  which  children  feel,  from  an  idea  of  the  exift- 
ence  of  fpirits  in  the  dark  : 

"  Ac  veluti  pueri  trepidant,  atque  omnia  coecis 
*'  In  tenebris  metuiint,  sic  nos  in  luce  timemus, 
"  Interdum  nihilo  quae  sunt  metuenda  magis." 

Such  fpeclres  can  be  difpelled  by  the  light  of  phi- 
lofophy  only  ;  which,  by  accuftoming  us  to  trace 
eftablifhed  connexions,  teaches  us  to  defpife  thofe 
which  are  cafual ;  and,  by  giving  a  proper  direction 
to  that  bias  of  the  mind  which  is  the  foundation  of 
fuperftition,  prevents  it  from  leading  us  aftray. 

In  the  inftances  which  \^e  have  now  been  confid- 
ering,  events  come  to  be  combined  together  in  the 
mind,  merely  from  the  accidental  circumftance  of 
their  contiguity  in  time,  at  the  moment  when  we 
perceived  them.  Such  combinations  are  cor.iined, 
in  a  great  meafure,  to  uncultivated  and  unenlight- 
ened minds  ;  or  to  thofe  individuals  who,  from  na- 
ture or  education,  have  a  more  than  ordinary  facility 
of  affociation.  But  there  are  other  accidental  com- 
binations, which  are  apt  to  lay  hold  of  the  moft  vig- 
orous underftandings  ;  and  from  which,  as  they  are 
the  natural  and  necelTary  refult  of  a  limited  experi- 
ence,  no  fuperiority  of  intellect  is  fufEcient  to  pre- 
ferve  a  philofopher,  in  the  infancy  of  phylicaj 
fcience. 

As  the  connecSlions  among  phyfical  events  are  dis- 
covered to  us  by  experience  alone,  it  is  evident,  that 
when  we  fee  a  phenomenon  preceded  by  a  number 
of  different  circumflances,  it  is  impoflible  for  us  to 
determine,  by  any  reafoning  a  priori^  which  of  tbefe 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  313 

circumftances  are  to  be  regarded  as  the  conjlant^  and 
which  as  the  accidental^  antecedents  of  the  effect.  If, 
in  the  courfe  of  our  experience,  the  fame  combina- 
tion of  circumftances  is  always  exhibited  to  us  with- 
out  any  alteration,  and  is  invariably  followed  by  the 
fame  refult,  we  muft  for  ever  remain  ignorant,  whe- 
ther this  refult  be  connected  with  the  whole  combi- 
nation, or  with  one  or  more  of  the  circumftances 
combined  ;  and  therefore,  if  we  are  anxious,  upon 
any  occafion,  to  produce  a  fimilar  effed,  the  only- 
rule  that  we  can  follow  with  perfect  fecurity,  is  to 
imitate  in  every  particular  circumftance  the  combina- 
tion which  we  have  feen  It  is  only  where  we  have 
an  opportunity  of  feparating  fuch  circumftances  from 
each  other  ;  of  combining  them  varioufly  together; 
and  of  obferving  the  effects  which  refult  from  thefe 
difierent  experiments,  that  we  can  afcertain  with 
precifion,  the  general  laws  of  nature,  and  ftrip  phyf- 
ical  caufes  of  their  accidental  and  uneffential  concom- 
itants. 

To  illuftrate  this  by  an  example.  Let  \js  fuppofe 
that  a  favage,  who,  in  a  particular  inftance,  had  found 
himfelf  relieved  of  fome  bodily  indifpolition  by  a 
draught  of  cold  water,  is  a  fecond  time  afflicted  with 
a  limilar  diforder,  and  is  defirous  to  repeat  the  fame 
remedy.  With  the  limited  degree  of  experience 
which  we  have  here  fuppofed  him  to  poffefs,  it  would 
be  impoflible  for  the  acuteft  philofopher,  in  his  fitu- 
ation,  to  determine,  whether  the  cure  was  owing  to 
the  water  which  was  drunk,  to  the  cup  in  which  it 
was  contained,  to  the  fountain  from  which  it  was 
taken,  to  the  particular  day  of  the  month,  or  to  the 
particular  age  of  the  moon.  In  order,  therefore,  to 
enfure  the  fuccefs  of  the  remedy,  he  will  very  nat- 
urally, and  very  wifely, copy, as  far  as  he  can  recolledt, 
every  circumftance  which  accompanied  the  firft  ap- 
plication of  it.  He  will  make  ule  of  the  fanie  cup, 
draw  the  water  from  the  lame  fountain,  hold  his 


S14  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

body  in  the  fame  pofture,  and  turn  his  face  in  the 
fame  direction  ;  and  thus  all  the  accidental  circum- 
fiances  in  which  the  firft  experiment  was  made,  will 
come  to  be  alTociated  equally  in  his  mind  with  the 
effedl  produced.  The  fountain  from  which  the  wa- 
ter was  drawn  will  be  confidered  as  pofleffed  of  par- 
ticular virtues ;  and  the  cup  from  which  it  w^as  drunk, 
will  be  fet  apart  from  vulgar  ufes,  for  the  fake  of 
ihofe  who  may  afterwards  have  occafion  to  apply  the 
remedy.  It  is  the  enlargement  of  experience  alone, 
and  not  any  progrefs  in  the  art  of  reafoning,  which 
can  cure  the  mind  of  thefe  afTociations,  and  free  the 
practice  of  medicine  from  thofe  fuperftitious  obfer- 
vances  with  which  we  always  find  it  incumbered 
among  rude  nations. 

Many  inftances  of  this  fpecies  of  fuperftition  might 
be  produced  from  the  works  of  philofophers  who 
have  flourifhed  in  more  enlightened  ages.  In  par- 
ticular, many  might  be  produced  from  the  writings 
of  thofe  phylical  inquirers  who  immediately  fucceed- 
ed  to  Lord  Bacon  ;  and  who,  convinced  by  his  ar- 
guments, of  the  folly  of  all  reafonings  a  priori^  con- 
cerning the  laws  of  nature,  were  frequently  apt  t» 
run  into  the  oppofite  extreme,  by  recording  every 
circumilance,  even  the  mod  ludicrous,  and  the  moft 
obvioufly  ineffential,  which  attended  their  experi- 
ments.* 

The  obfervatlons  which  have  been  hitherto  made, 
relate  entirely  to  affociations  founded  on  cafual  com- 
binations of  material  objeds,  or  of  phyftcal  events. 
The  effeds  which  thefe  afibciations  produce  on  the 

*  The  reader  will  scarcely  believe,  that  the  followng  ciije  for  a 
dysentery,  is  copied  'verb-.dhn  from  the  works  of  Mr.  Boyle : 

"  Take  the  thigh  bone  of  a  hanged  man,  (perhaps  another  may 
"  serve,  but  this  was  still  made  use  of,)  calcine  it  to  whiteness,  and 
"  having  purged  the  patient  with  an  antimonia!  medicine,  give  hiui^ 
"  one  dram  of  this  white  powder  for  one  dose,  in  some  good 
"  dial,  whether  conserve  or  liquor." 


1  cor^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  SIS 

tinderftanding,  and  which  are  fo  palpable,  that  they 
cannot  fail  to  ftrike  the  moft  carelefs  obferver,  will 
prepar'e  the  reader  for  the  remarks  I  am  now  to 
l^make,  on  fome  analogous  prejudices  which  warp  our 
opinions  on  ftill  more  important  fubjecis. 

As  the  ellablifiied  laws  of  the  material  world, 
which  have  been  exhibited  to  our  fenfes  from  our 
infancy,  gradually  accommodate  to  themfelves  the 
order  of  our  thoughts  ;  fo  the  moft  arbitrary  and 
capricious  inlHtutions  and  cuftoms,  by  a  long  and 
conftant  and  exclufive  operation  on  the  mind,  ac- 
quire fuch  an  influence  in  forming  the  intelledtual 
habits,  that  every  deviation  from  them  not  only  pro- 
duces furprife,  but  is  apt  to  excite  fentiments  of  con- 
tempt and  of  ridicule.  A  perfon  who  has  never  ex- 
tended his  views  beyond  that  fociety  of  which  he 
himfelf  is  a  member,  is  apt  to  confider  many  pecu- 
liarities in  the  manners  and  cuftoms  of  his  country- 
men as  founded  on  the  univerfal  principles  of  the 
human  conftitution  ;  and  when  he  hears  of  other 
nations,  whofe  practices  in  fimilar  cafes  are  different, 
he  is  apt  to  cenfure  them  as  unnatural,  and  to  def* 
pife  them  as  abfurd.  There  are  two  clafles  of  men 
who  have  more  particularly  been  charged  with  this 
weaknefs  ;  thofe  who  are  placed  at  the  bottom,  and 
thofe  who  have  reached  the  fummit  of  the  feale  of 
refinement ;  the  fromer  from  ignorance,  and  the  lat- 
ter from  national  vanity. 

For  curing  this  clais  of  prejudices,  the  obvious 
expedient  which  nature  points  out  to  us,  is  to  extend 
our  acquaintance  with  human  affairs,  either  by 
means  of  books,  or  of  perfonal  obfervation.  The  ef- 
fedls  of  travelling,  in  enlarging  and  enlightening  the 
mind,  are  obvious  to  our  daily  experience  ;  and 
limilar  advantages  may  be  derived  (although,  per- 
haps, not  in  an  equal  degree)  from  a  careful  ftudy 
of  the  manners  of  paft  ages  or  of  diftant  nations,  as 
they  are  defcribed  by  the  hiftorian.     In  making, 


516  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

however,  thefe  attempts  for  our  inteliedual  improve- 
ment, it  is  of  the  utmoft  conlequence  to  us  to  vary, 
to  a  confiderable  degree,  the  objects  of  Obr  attention  ; 
in  order  to  prevent  any  danger  of  our  acquiring  an 
exciufive  prefereni  e  for  the  caprices  of  any  (me  peo- 
ple, whofe  political  fituation,  or  whofe  moral  char- 
acter, may  attach  us  to  them  as  faultlets  models  for 
our  imitation.  The  fame  weaknefs  and  verfatility 
of  mind  ;  the  fame  facility  of  affociation,  which,  in 
the  cafe  of  a  perfon  who  has  never  extended  his 
views  beyond  his  own  community,  is  a  fource  of  na- 
tional prejudice  and  of  national  bigotry,  renders  the 
mind,  when  forced  into  new  fituations,  eafily  fufcep- 
tible  of  other  prejudices  no  lefs  capricious  ;  and  fre- 
quently prevents  the  time,  which  is  devoted  to  tra- 
velling, or  to  ftudy,  from  being  fubfervient  to  any 
better  purpofe,  than  an  importation  of  foreign  fafh* 
ions,  or  a  ftill  more  ludicrous  imitation  of  antient 
follies. 

The  philofopher  whofe  thoughts  dwell  habitual- 
ly, not  merely  upon  what  is,  or  what  has  been, 
but  upon  what  is  beft  and  moft  expedient  for  man- 
kind ;  who,  to  the  ftudy  of  books,  and  the  ob- 
fervation  of  manners,  has  added  a  careful  exami- 
nation of  the  principles  of  the  human  conflitu- 
tion,  and  of  thofe  which  ought  to  regulate  the  focial 
order  ;  is  the  only  perfon  who  is  efFedually  fecured 
againfl  both  the  weakneiTes  which  I  have  defcribed. 
By  learning  to  feparate  what  is  elTential  to  morality 
and  to  happinefs,  from  thofe  adventitious  trifles 
which  it  is  the  province  of  falhion  to  direct,  he  is 
equally  guarded  againft  the  follies  of  national  preju- 
dice, and  a  weak  deviation,  in  matters  of  indifier- 
ence,  from  eftablifhed  ideas.  Upon  his  mind,  thus 
occupied  with  important  fubjects  of  reflection,  the 
fluctuating  caprices  and  fafliions  of  the  tiroes  lofe 
their  influence  ;  while  accufl:omed  to  avoid  the  flave- 
ry  of  local  and  arbitrary  habits,  he  poflefles^  in  his 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  SIT 

own  genuine  fimplicity  of  characler,  the  fame  pow- 
er of  iiccoinrao(iUion  to  external  circumftances, 
whica  men  of  the  world  derive  from  the  pliability 
of  their  talle,  and  the  verfatility  of  their  manners. 
As  the  order,  too,  of  his  ideas  is  accommodated,  not 
to  what  is  cafualiy  prefented  from  without,  but  to 
his  own  fyftematical  principles,  his  aiTociations  are 
fubjecl  only  to  thofe  flow  and  pleafing  changes  which 
arife  from  his  growing  light  and  improvii;g  reaion  ; 
and,  in  fuch  a  period  of  the  world  is  tae  prefent, 
when  the  piefs  not  only  excludes  the  poilibility  of  a 
permanent  retrogradation  in  hum.an  affairs,  but  ope* 
rates  with  an  irrefiftible  though  gradual  progrefs,  in 
undermining  prejudices  and  in  extei;ding  the  tri- 
umphs of  philofophy,  he  may  reafonably  indulge  the 
hope,  that  fociety  will  every  day  approach  nearer 
and  nearer  to  what  he  wnfhes  it  to  be.  A  man  of 
fuch  a  character,  inflead  of  looking  back  on  the  pafl 
with  regret,  finds  himfelf  (if  I  may  ufe  the  expref- 
iion)  more  at  home  in  the  world,  and  more  fatisfied 
with  its  order,  the  longer  he  lives  in  it.  The  mel- 
ancholy contrafls  which  old  men  are  fometimes  dif- 
pofed  to  flate,  between  its  condition,  when  they  are 
about  to  leave  it,  and  that  in  which  they  found  it  at 
the  commencement  of  their  career,  arifes,  in  mofl 
cales,  from  the  unlimited  influence  which  in  their 
early  years  they  had  allowed  to  the  fafhions  of  the 
times,  in  the  formation  of  their  characfers.  How 
different  from  thole  fentiments  and  profped:s  which 
dignified  the  retreat  of  Turgot,  and  brightened  the 
declining  years  of  Franklin  ! 

The  que rulous  temper,  however,  which  is  inci- 
dent to  Old  men,  although  it  renders  their  manners 
difagreeable  in  th  intercourle  of  focial  life,  is  by 
no  means  the  moft  contemptible  form  in  which  the 
prejudices  1  have  now  been  defcribing  may  difplay 
their  influence.  Such  a  temper  indicates  at  leall  a 
certain  degree  of  obfervation,  in  marking  the  viciiTu 


SI 8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tudes  of  human  affairs,  and  a  certain  degree  of  fen- 
fibility  in  early  life,  which  has  connected  plcafing 
ideas  with  the  fcenes  of  infancy  and  youth.  A  ve- 
ry great  proportion  of  mankind  are,  in  a  great 
meafure,  incapable  either  of  the  one  or  of  the  other  ; 
and,  fuffering  thenifelves  to  be  carried  quietly  along 
with  the  dream  of  fafhion,  and  finding  their  opinions 
and  their  feelings  always  in  the  fame  relative  fitua- 
tion  to  the  fleeting  objects  around  them,  are  per- 
fectly unconfcious  of  any  progrefs  in  their  own 
ideas,  or  of  any  change  in  the  manners  of  their  age. 
In  vain  the  philofopher  reminds  them  of  the  opin- 
ions they  yefterday  held  ;  and  forewarns  them, 
from  the  fpirit  of  the  times,  of  thofe  which  they  are 
to  hold  tomorrow.  The  opinions  of  the  prefent 
moment  feem  to  them  to  be  infeparible  from  their 
conftitution  ;  and  when  the  profpecls  are  reallfed, 
which  they  lately  treated  as  chimerical,  their  minds 
are  fo  gradually  prepared  for  the  event,  that  they  be- 
hold it  without  any  emotions  of  wonder  or  curiofi- 
ty  ;  and  it  is  to  the  philofopher  alone,  by  whom  it 
was  predidled,  that  it  appears  to  furnifli  a  fubjedt 
worthy  of  future  refiedion. 

The  prejudices  to  which  the  laft  obfervations  re- 
late, have  their  origin  in  that  difpofition  of  our  na- 
ture, which  accommodates  the  order  of  our  ideas, 
and  our  various  intelle£tual  habits,  to  whatever  ap- 
pearances have  been  long  and  familiarly  prefented 
to  the  mind.  But  there  are  other  prejudices,  which, 
by  being  intimately  affociated  with  the  effential 
principles  of  our  conftitution,  or  with  the  original 
and  univerfal  laws  of  our  belief,  are  incomparably 
more  inveterate  in  their  nature,  and  have  a  far 
more  extenfive  influence  on  human  character  and 
happinefs, 

III.  The  manner  in  which  the  affociation  of  ideas 
operates  in  producing  this  third  clafs  of  our  fpecu^ 
lative  errors,  may  be  conceived,  in  part,  from  what 


OF  TfTE  HUMAN  MlND.  319 

was  formerly  faid,  concerning  the  fuperftitious  ob- 
fervances,  which  are  mixed  with  the  praiftice  of  med- 
icine among  rude  nations.  As  all  the  different  cir- 
cumftances  which  accompanied  the  firft  adminiftra- 
tion  of  a  remedy,  come  to  be  confidered  as  eflential 
to  its  future  fuccefs,  and  are  blended  together  in 
our  conceptions,  without  any  difcrimination  of  their 
relative  importance ,  fo,  whatever  tenets  and  cere- 
monies we  have  been  taught  to  conne£t  with  the  re- 
ligious creed  of  our  infancy,  become  almoft  apart  of 
our  conftitution,  by  being  indiffolubly  united  with 
truths  which  are  effential  to  happinefs,  and  which 
we  are  led  to  reverence  and  to  love,  by  all  the  beft 
difpolitions  of  the  heart.  The  aftonifhment  which 
the  peafant  feels,  when  he  fees  the  rites  of  a  religion 
different  from  his  own,  is  not  lefs  great  than  if  he 
faw  fome  flagrant  breach  of  the  moral  duties,  or 
fome  dired:  a6t  of  impiety  to  God  ;  nor'  is  it  eafy 
for  him  to  conceive,  that  there  can  be  any  thing 
worthy  in  a  mind  which  treats  with  indifference, 
what  awakens  in  his  own  breafl  all  its  befl  and  fub- 
limeft  emotions.  ''  Is  it  pollible,"  (fays  the  old  and 
expiring  Bramin,  in  one  of  MarmonteFs  tales,  to  the 
young  Englifh  officer  who  had  faved  the  life  of  his 
daughter,)  "is  it  pofTible,  that  he  to  whofe  compaf- 
*'  fion  I  owe  the  prefervation  of  my  child,  and  who 
*'  now  foothes  my  lafl  moments  with  the  confolations 
"  of  piety,  fhould  not  believe  in  the  god  Vijinou^  and 
"  his  nine  metamorphofes  !*' 

What  has  now  been  faid  on  the  nature  of  Wigious 
fuperftition,  may  be  applied  to  many  other  fubjects. 
In  particular,  it  may  be  applied  to  thofe  political 
prejudices  which  bias  the  judgment  even  of  enhght- 
ened  men  in  all  countries  of  the  world. 

How  deeply  rooted  in  the  human  frame  are  thofe 
important  principles,  which  interefl  the  good  man  in 
the  profperity  of  the  world ;  and  more  efpecially  in 
the  profperity  of  that  beloved  community  to  which 


52G  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

he  belongs  !  How  fraall,  at  the  fame  time,  Is  the 
number  of  individuals  who,  accuilomed  to  contem- 
plate one  modification  alone  of  the  fbcial  order,  are 
able  to  diiHnguiih  the  circumtlances  which  are  ef- 
fential  to  human  happinefs,  from  thofe  which  are  in- 
different or  hurtful  !  In  fuch  a  iituation,  how  natu- 
ral is  it  for  a  man  of  benevolence,  to  acquire  an  in- 
difcriminate  and  fuperflitious  veneration  for  all  the 
inflitutions  under  which  he  has  been  educated ;  as 
thefe  inflitutions,  however  capricious  and  abfurd  in 
themfelves,  are  not  only  familiarifed  by  habit  to  all 
his  thoughts  and  feelings,  but  are  confecrated  in  his 
mind  by  an  indifrolul3le  affociation  with  duties 
which  nature  recommends  to  his  affections,  and 
which  reafon  commands  him  to  fulfil.  It  is  on  thefe 
accounts  that  a  fuperflitious  zeal  againfl  innovation 
both  in  religion  and  politics,  where  it  is  evidently 
grafted  on  piety  to  God,  and  good-will  to  mankind, 
however  it  may  excite  the  for  row  of  the  more  en- 
lightened philofopher,  is  juftly  entitled,  not  only  to 
his  indulgence,  but  to  his  efleem  and  affedion. 

The  remarks  which  have  been  already  made>  are 
fufficient  to  fhew,  how  neceiLiry  it  is  for  us,  in  the 
formation  of  our  philofophical  principles,  to  exam- 
ine with  care  all  thofe  opinions  which,  in  our  early- 
years,  we  have  imbibed  from  our  inffrudors  ;  or 
which  are  connected  with  our  own  local  situation. 
Nor  does  the  univerfility  of  an  opinion  among  men 
who  have  received  a  fimilar  education,  afford  any 
prefumption  in  its  favor  ;  for  however  great  the  dif- 
ference is,  which  a  wife  man  will  always  pay  to  com- 
mon belief,  upon  thofe  fubjects  which  have  employ- 
ed the  unbialfed  reafon  of  mankind,  he  certainly 
owes  it  no  refpecl,  in  fo  far  as  he  fufpeds  it  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  fafhion  or  authority.  Nothing  can  be 
more  jufl  than  the  obfervation  of  Fontenelle,  that 
"  the  number  of  thofe  who  believe  in  a  fyflem  al- 
"  ready  eflabliflied  in  the  world,  does  not,  in  the 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIN©.  S2l 

*'  leaft,  add  to  its  credibility  ;  but  that  the  number 
*^  of  thofe  who  doubt  of  it,  has  a  tendency  to  dimin- 
«  ifh  it/' 

The  fame  remarks  lead,  upon  the  other  hand,  to 
another  conclufion  of  ftill  greater  importance  ;  that, 
notwithftanding  the  various  falfe  opinions  which  are 
current  in  the  world,  there  are  fome  truths,  which 
are  infeparable  from  the  human  underftanding,  and 
by  means  of  which,  the  errors  of  education,  in  moft 
inftances,  are  enabled  to  take  hold  of  our  belief. 

A  weak  mind,  unaccuilomed  to  reflexion,  and 
which  has  paflively  derived  its  moft  important  opin- 
ions from  habit  or  from  authority,  when,  in  confe- 
quence  of  a  more  enlarged  intercourfe  with  the 
world,  it  finds,  that  ideas  which  it  hod  been  taught 
to  regard  as  facred,  are  treated  by  enlightened  and 
worthy  men  with  ridicule,  is  apt  to  lolie  its  rever- 
ence for  the  fundamental  and  eternal  truths  on  which 
thefe  acceflbry  ideas  are  grafted,  and  eafily  falls  a 
prey  to  that  fceptical  phiiofophy  which  teaches,  that 
all  the  opinions,  and  all  the  principles  of  adlion  by 
which  mankind  are  governed,  may  be  traced  to  the 
influence  of  education  and  exmaple.  Amidft  the 
infinite  variety  of  forms,  however,  which  our  verfa- 
tile  nature  afTumes,  it  cannot  fail  to  ftrike  an  atten- 
tive obferver,  that  there  are  certain  indeHble  fea- 
tures common  to  them  all.  In  one  fituation,  we 
find  good  men  attached  to  a  republican  form  of  gov- 
ernment ;  in  another,  to  a  monarchy  ;  but  in  all  fit- 
uations,  we  find  them  devoted  to  the  fervice  of  their 
country  and  of  mankind,  and  difpofed  to  regard, 
with  reverence  and  love,  the  mofl  abfurd  and  capri- 
cious inftitutions  which  cuflom  has  led  them  to  con- 
nect with  the  order  of  fociety.  The  different  ap- 
pearances, therefore,  which  the  political  opinions 
and  the  political  condudl  of  men  exhibit,  while  they 
demonftrate  to  what  a  wonderful  degree  human  na- 
ture may  be  influenced  by  fituation  and  by  early 
R  R 


322  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

inftru^lion,  evince  the  exigence  of  fome  commorjr 
and  original  principles,  which  fit  it  for  the  political 
uni')n,  and  iUuftrate  the  uniform  operation  of  thofe 
laws  of  affociation,  to  which,  in  all  the  ftages  of  fo- 
ciety,  it  is  equally  fubjecl. 

Similar  obfervations  are  applicable,  and,  indeed,. 
in  a  ftill  more  ftriking  degree,  to  the  opinions  of 
mankind  on  the  important  queftions  of  religion  and 
morality.  The  variety  of  fyftems  which  they  have 
formed  to  themfelves  concerning  thefe  fubjedls,  has 
often  excited  the  ridicule  of  the  fceptic  and  the  liber- 
tine ;  but  if,  on  the  one  hand,  this  variety  fliews, 
the  folly  of  bigotry,  and  the  reafonablenefs  of  mu- 
tual indulgence  ;  the  curiofity  which  has  led  men  in 
every  lituation  to  fuch  fpeculations,  and  the  influ- 
ence which  their,  con clulions,  however  abfurd,  have 
had  on  their  character  and  their  happinefs,  prove,  no 
lefs  clearly, on  the  other,that  there  muft  be  fome  prin- 
ciples from  which  they  all  derive  their  origin  ;  and 
invite  the  philofopher  to  afcertain  what  are  thefe 
original  and  immutable  laws  of  the  human  mind. 

"  Examine"  (fays  Mr.  Hume)  "  the  religious  prin- 
^^  ciples  which  have  prevailed  in  the  w^orld.  You 
*'  will  fcarcely  be  perfuaded,  that  they  are  any  thing 
"  but  fick  men's  dreams  j  or,  perhaps,  will  regard 
"  them  more  as  the  playfome  whimfies  of  monkeys 
"  in  human  fliape,  than  the  ferious,  pofitive,  dog- 
"  matical  afleverations  of  a  being,  who  dignifies  him- 

"  felf  with  the  name  of  rational." "  To  oppofe 

"  the  torrent  of  fcholaftic  religion  by  fuch  feeble 
"  maxims  as  thefe,  that  it  is  impoflible  for  the  fame 
''  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be  ;  that  the  whole  is  great- 
*'  er  than  a  part ;  thai  two  and  three  make  five  ;  is 
*'  pretending  to  fl:op  the  ocean  with  a  bulrufli.'* 
But  what  is  the  inference  to  which  we  are  led  by 
thefe  obfervations  ?  Is  it,  (to  ufe  the  words  of  this 
ingenious  writer,)  "  that  the  whole  is  a  riddle,  an 
"  aenigma,  an  inexplicable  myftery  j  and  that  doubt. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINO.  ^523 

"^^  uncertainty,  and  fufpenfe,  appear  the  only  refult 
"  of  our  moft  accurate  fcrutiny  concerning  this  fub- 
*'  jecl  ?'*  Or  fliould  not  rather  the  melancholy  hif^ 
tories  which  he  has  exhibited  of  the  follies  and  ca- 
prices of  fuperftition,  direct  our  attention  to  thofe 
facred  and  indelible  chara6lers  on  the  human  mind, 
which  all  thefe  perveriions  of  reafon  are  unable  to 
obliterate  ;  like  that  image  of  himfelf,  which  Phidi- 
as wifhed  to  perpetuate,  by  ftamping  it  fo  deeply  on 
the  buckler  of  his  Minerva  ;  "^  ut  nemo  delere  pof- 
^'  fet  aut  divellere,  qui  totam  ftatuam  non  imminuer- 
"  et."*  In  truth,  the  more  ftriking  the  contradic- 
tions, and  the  more  ludicrous  the  ceremonies  to 
which  the  pride  of  human  reafon  has  thus  been  rec- 
onciled ;  the  ftronger  is  our  evidence  that  religion 
has  a  foundation  in  the  nature  of  man.  When  the 
greateft  of  modern  philofophers  declares,  that  "  he 
*'  would  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the  Legend, 
"  and  the  Talmud,  and  Alcoran,  than  that  tliis  uni- 
^'  verfal  frame  is  without  mind  ;"t  he  has  exprefled 
the  fame  feeling,  which,  in  all  ages  and  nations,  has 
led  good  men,  unaccuftomed  to  reafoning,  to  an 
implicit  faith  in  the  creed  of  their  infancy  ; — a  feel- 
ing which  affords  an  evidence  of  the  ^xiftence  of 
the  Deity,  incomparably  more  ftriking,  than  if, 
unmixed  with  error  and  undebafed  by  fuperlHtion, 
this  moft  important  of  all  principles  had  command- 
ed the  univerfal  affent  of  mankind.  Where  are  the 
other  truths,  in  the  whole  circle  of  the  fciences, 
which  are  fo  effential  to  human  happinefs,  as  to  pro- 
cure an  eafy  accefs,  not  only  for  themfelv€s,  but  for 
whatever  opinions  may  happen  to  be  blended  with 
them  ?  Where  are  the  truths  fo  venerable  and  com- 
manding, as  to  impart  their  own  fublimity  to  every 

*  Select  Discourses  by  John  Smith,  p.  1 19.     Cambridge,  1 67S. 
.t  Loid  Bacon,  in  his  Essays. 


324  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

trifling  memorial  which  recals  them  to  our  remem- 
brance ;  to  bellow  folemnity  and  elevation  on  every 
mode  of  expreflion  by  which  they  are  conveyed  ;  and 
which,  in  whatever  fcene  they  have  habitually  occu- 
pied the  thoughts,  confecrate  every  obje8:  which  it 
prefents  to  our  fenfes,  and  the  very  ground  we  have 
been  accuitomed  to  tread  ?  To  attempt  to  weaken 
the  authority  of  fuch  impreflions,  by  a  detail  of  the 
endlefs  variety  of  forms,  which  they  derive  from 
calual  afTociations,  is  furely  an  employment  unfuita- 
ble  to  the  dignity  of  philoibphy.  To  the  vulgar,  it 
may  be  amuling,  in  this,  as  in  other  inff  ances,  to  in- 
dulge their  wonder  at  what  is  new  or  uncommon  ; 
but  to  the  philofopher  it  belongs  to  perceive,  under 
all  thefe  various  difguiles,  the  workings  of  the  fame 
common  nature ;  and  in  the  fuperftitions  of  Egypt, 
no  lefs  than  in  the  lofty  vifions  of  Plato,  to  recog- 
nize the  exiilence  of  thofe  moral  ties  which  unite  the 
heart  of  man  to  the  Author  of  his  being. 


SECTION  II. 

Influence  of  the  AJfociation  of  Ideas  on  our  Judgments  in 
Matters  ofTafie. 

THE  very  general  obfervations  which  I  am  to 
make  in  this  Sedion,  do  not  prefuppofe  any  particu- 
lar theorv  concerning  the  nature  of  Tafte.  It  is  fuf- 
ficient  for  my  purpofe  to  remark,  that  Tafle  is  not 
a  fimple  and  original  faculty,  but  a  power  gradually 
formed  by  experience  and  oblervation.  It  implies, 
indeed,  as  its  ground-work,  a  certain  degree  of  nat- 
ural fenfibility  ;  but  it  implies  alfo  the  exercife  of 
the  judgment ;  and  is  the  flow  refult  of  an  attentive 
examination  and  comparifon  of  the  agreeable  or  difa- 
greeable  effects  produced  on  the  mind  by  external 
objeds. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINB.  325 

Such  of  my  readers  as  are  acquainted  with  *'  An 
"  Effay  on  the  Nature  and  Principies  of  Tafte,"  late- 
ly publiflied  by  Mr.  Alifon,  will  not  be  furprifed 
that  I  decline  the  difcuilion  of  a  fubjed:  which  he 
has  treated  with  fo  much  ingenuity  and  elegance. 

The  view  which  was  formerly  given  of  the  pro- 
cefs,  by  which  the  general  laws  of  the  material 
world  are  inveftigated,  and  which  I  endeavoured  to 
illuftrate  by  the  Sate  of  medicine  among  rude  na- 
tions, is  ftridly  applicable  to  the  hiilory  of  Tafte. 
That  certain  objeds  are  fitted  to  give  pleafure,  and 
others  difguft,  to  the  mind,  we  know  from  experi- 
ence alone  ;  and  it  is  impollible  for  us,  by  any  rea- 
foning  a  priori^  to  explain,  how  the  pleafure  or  the 
pain  is  produced.  In  the  works  of  nature  we  find, 
in  many  inftances.  Beauty  and  Sublimity  involved 
among  circumftances,  which  are  either  indifferent, 
or  which  obftrucls  the  general  efFed :  and  it  is  only 
by  a  train  of  experiments,  that  we  can  feparate  thofe 
circumflantes  from  the  reft,  and  afcertain  with 
what  particular  qualities  the  pleafing  effect  is  con- 
neded.  x'^ccordingly,  the  inexperienced  artift, 
when  he  copies  Nature,  will  copy  her  fervilely,  that 
he  may  be  certain  of  fecuring  the  pleafing  effect ; 
and  the  beauties  of  his  performances  will  be  encum- 
bered with  a  number  of  fuperfluous  or  of  difagreea- 
ble  concomitants.  Experience  and  obfervation  a- 
lone  can  enable  him  to  make  this  difcrimination : 
to  exhibit  the  principles  of  beauty  pure  and  unadul- 
terated, and  to  form  a  creation  of  his  own,  more 
faultlefs  than  ever  fell  under  the  obfervation  of  his 
fenfes. 

This  analogy  between  the  progrefs  of  Tafte  from 
rudenefs  to  refinement  ;  and  the  progrefs  of  phyfical 
knowledge  from  the  fuperftitions  of  a  favage  tribe, 
to  the  inveftigation  of  the  laws  of  nature,  proceeds 
on  the  fuppofition,  that,  as  in  the  material  world 
there  are  general  facts,  beoynd  which  philofophy  is 


326  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

unable  to  proceed  ;  fo,  in  the  conftitution  of  man, 
there  is  an  inexplicable  adaptation  of  the  mind  to 
the  objeds  with  which  his  faculties  are  converfant ; 
in  confequence  of  which,  thefe  objects  are  fitted  to 
produce  agreeable  or  difagreeable  emotions.  In  both 
cafes,  reafoning  may  be  employed  with  propriety  to 
refer  particular  phenomena  to  general  principles  ; 
but  in  both  cafes,  we  mull  at  laft  arrive  at  principles 
of  which  no  account  can  be  given,  but  that  fuch  is 
the  will  of  our  Maker.  * 

A  great  part,  too,  of  the  remarks  which  were 
made  in  the  lafl  Sed:ion  on  the  origin  of  popular 
prejudices,  may  be  applied  to  explain  the  influence 
of  cafual  afl'ociations  on  Tafte  ;  but  thefe  remarks  do 
not  fo  completely  exhauft  thefubject,  as  to  fuperfede 
the  neceflity  of  farther  illuftration.     In  matters  of 
Tafte,  the  effects  which  we  confider,  are  produced 
on  the  Minditfelf ;  and  are  accompanied  either  with 
pleafure  or  with  pain.     Hence  the  tendency  to  cafual 
afTociation,  is  much  ftronger  than  it  commonly  is, 
with  refpecl  to  phyfical  events  ;  and  when  fuch  af- 
fociations  are  once  formed,  as  they  do  not  lead  to 
any  important  inconvenience,  fimilar  to  thofe  which 
refult  from  phyfical  miftakes,  they  are  not  fo  likely 
to  be  corrected  by  mere  experience,  unaflifted  by 
ftudy.     To  this  it  is  owing,  that  the  influence  of  af- 
fociation  on  our  judgments  concerning  beauty  and 
deformity,  is  ftill  more  remarkable  than  on  our  fpec- 
ulative  conclulions  ;  a  circumftance  which  has  led 
fome  philofophers  to  fuppofe,  that  aflbciation  is  fuf- 
ficient  to  account  for  the  origin  of  thefe  notions  ; 
and  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  a  ftandard  of  Tafte, 
founded  on  the  principles  of  the  human  conftitution. 
But  this  is  undoubtedly  puftiing  the  theory  a  great 
deal  too  far.     The  aflbciation  of  ideas  can  never  ac- 
count for  the  origin  of  a  new  notion  ;    or  of  a  plea- 
fure eflentially   different  from  all  the  others  which 
we  know.     It  may  indeed,  enable  us  to  conceive 


O?  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S27 

how  a  thing  indifferent  in  itfelf,  may  become  a  fource 
of  pleafure,  by  being  conneded  in  the  mind  with 
fomething  elfe  which  is  naturally  agreeable ;  but  it 
prefuppofcs,  in  every  inftance,  the  exiftence  of  thofe 
notions  and  thofe  feelings  which  it  is  its  province  to 
combine  :  infomuch  that,  I  apprehend,  it  will  be 
found,  wherever  affociation  produces  a  change  in 
our  judgments  on  matters  of  Tafte,  it  does  io,  by  co- 
operating with  fome  natural  principle  of  the  mind;, 
and  implies  the  exiftence  of  certain  original  fources 
of  pleafure  and  uneaiinefs. 

A  mode  of  drefs,  which  at  firft  appeared  awkward, 
acquires,  in  a  few  weeks  or  months,  the  appearance 
o£  elegance.  By  being  accuflomed  to  fee  it  worn 
by  thofe  whom  we  conSder  as  models  of  Tafte,  it  be- 
comes affociated  with  the  agreeable  impreflicms 
which  we  receive  from  the  eafe  and  grace  and  re- 
finement of  their  manners.  When  it  pleafes  by  it- 
felf, the  effect  is  to  be  afcribed,  not  to  the  objed:  ac- 
tually before  us,  but  to  the  impreflions  with  which 
it  has  been  generally  connected,  and  which  it  nat- 
urally recals  to  the  mind. 

This  obfervatioR  points  out  the  caufe  of  the  perpet- 
ual viciffitudes  in  drefs,  and  in  every  thing  whofe 
chief  recommendation  arifes  from  faihion.  It  is  evi- 
dent that,  as  far  as  the  agreeable  effed:  of  an  orna- 
ment arifes  from  aflbciation,  the  effedt  will  continue 
only  while  it  is  confined  to  the  higheft  orders.  When 
it  is  adopted  by  the  multitude,  it  not  only  ceafes  to 
be  affociated  with  ideas  of  tafte  and  refinement,  but 
it  is  affociated  with  ideas  of  affedation,  abiurd  imi- 
tation, and  vulgarity.  It  is  accordingly  laid  afide 
by  the  higher  orders,  who  ftudioully  avoid  every 
circumftance  in  external  appearance,  which  is  dc- 
bafed  by  low  and  common  ufe  ;  and  they  are  led  to 
exercife  their  invention,  in  the  introduction  of  fome 
new  peculiarities,  which  firft  become  fafhionable, 
then  common,  and  laft  of  all,  are  abandoned  as  vul- 
gar. 


528  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  after  a  certain 
period  in  the  progrefs  of  fociety,  the  public  Tafle 
becomes  corrupted  ;  and  the  different  produdions 
of  the  fine  arts  begin  to  degenerate  from  that  fim- 
plicity,  which  they  had  attained  in  their  ftate  of 
greateil  perfection.  One  reafon  of  this  decline  is 
fuggefted  by  the  foregoing  obfervations. 

From  the  account  which  has  been  given  of  the 
natural  progrefs  of  Tafte,  in  feparating  the  genuine 
principles  of  beauty  from  fuperiluous  and  from  of- 
fenlive  concomitants,  it  is  evident,  that  there  is  a 
limit,  beyond  which  the  love  of  fimplicity  cannot  be 
carried.  No  bounds,  indeed,  can  be  fet  to  the  cre- 
ations of  genius  ;  but  as  this  quality  occurs  feldogi 
in  an  eminent  degree,  it  commonly  happens,  that 
after  a  period  of  great  refinement  of  Tafte,  men  be- 
gin to  gratify  their  love  of  variety,  by  adding  fu- 
perfluous  circumllances  to  the  finifhed  models  ex- 
hibited by  their  predeceflors,  or  by  making  other 
trifling  alterations  on  them,  with  a  view  merely  of 
diveriifying  the  effed.  Thefe  additions  and  altera- 
tions, indifferent,  perhaps,  or  even  in  fome  degree 
offenfive  in  them.felves,  acquire  foon  a  borrowed 
beauty,  from  the  connexion  in  which  we  fee  them, 
or  from  the  influence  of  fafliion  ;  the  fame  caufe 
which  at  firft  produced  them,  continues  perpetually 
to  increafe  their  number  ;  and  Tafte  returns  to  bar- 
barifm,  by  almoft  the  fame  fteps  which  conduded 
it  to  perfection. 

The  truth  of  thefe  remarks  will  appear  ftill  more 
Unking  to  thofe  who  con  Oder  the  wonderful  effect 
which  a  writer  of  fplendid  genius  but  of  incorred 
tafte,  has  in  misleadir^g  the  public  judgn.ent.  The 
peculiarities  of  fuc-i  an  author  are  confecrated  by 
the' connexion  in  which  we  fee  them,  and  even 
pleafe,  to  a  certain  degree,  when  detached  from  the 
excellencies  of  his  composition,  by  recalling  to  us 
the  agreeable  impreffions  with  which  they  have  been 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  329 

formerly  aflbciated.  How  many  imitations  have 
we  feen,  of  the  affedtations  of  Sterne,  by  men  who 
were  unable  to  copy  his  beauties  ?  And  yet  thefe 
imitations  of  his  defers  ;  of  his  abrupt  manner  ;  of 
his  minute  fpecifications  of  circumftances ;  and  e- 
ven  of  his  dafhes,  produce,  at  firft,  fome  effect  on 
readers  of  fenfibility,  but  of  uncultivated  tafte,  in 
confequence  of  the  exquiiite  ftrokes  of  the  pathetic, 
and  the  fingular  vein  of  humour,  with  which  they 
are  united  in  the  original. 

From  what  has  been  faid,  it  is  obvious,  that  the 
circumftances  which  please,  in  the  objeds  of  Tafte, 
are  of  Two  kinds  :  Firft,  thofe  which  are  fitted  to 
pleafe  by  nature,  or  by  affociations  which  all  man- 
kind are  led  to  form  by  their  common  condition ; 
and  Secondly,  thofe  which  pleafe  in  confequence  of 
affociations  arifing  from  local  and  accidental  circum- 
ftances. Hence,  there  are  two  kinds  of  Tafte :  the 
one  enabling  us  to  judge  of  thofe  beauties  which 
have  a  foundation  in  the  human  conftitution ;  the 
other,  of  fuch  objects  as  derive  their  principal  rec- 
ommendation from  the  influence  of  fafliion. 

Thefe  two  kinds  of  Tafte  are  not  always  united  in 
the  fame  perfon :  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
that  they  are  united  but  rarely.  The  perfedicm  of 
the  one,  depends  much  upon  the  degree  in  which 
we  are  able  to  free  the  mind  from  the  influence  of 
cafual  affociations  ;  that  of  the  other,  on  the  contra- 
ry, depends  on  a  facility  of  affociation  which  ena- 
bles us  to  fall  in,  at  once,  with  ail  the  turns  of  the 
fafliion,  and  (as  Shakefpeare  exprefles  it,)  "to  catch 
the  tune  of  the  times." 

I  fliall  endeavour  to  illuftrate  fome  of  the  forego- 
ing remarks,  by  applying  them  to  the  fubje<5l  of 
language,  which  affords  numberlefs  inftances  to  ex- 
emplify the  influence  which  the  affociation  of  ideas 
has  on  our  judgments  in  matters  of  Tafte. 

In  the  fame  manner  in  which  an  article  of  drefs 
S  s 


330  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

acquires  an  appearance  of  elegance  or  of  vulgarity 
from  the  perfons  by  whom  it  is  habitually  worn  y  fo 
a  particular  mode  of  pronunciation  acquires  an  air 
of  fafhion  or  of  rufticity,  from  the  perfons  by  whom 
it  is  habitually  employed.  The  Scotch  accent  is 
furely  in  itfelf  as  good  as  the  Englifti ;  and  with  a 
few  exceptions,  is  as  agreeable  to  the  ear :  and  yet 
how  ofFenfive  does  it  appear,  even  to  us,  who  have 
been  accuftomed  to  hear  it  from  our  infancy,  when 
compared  with  that  which  is  ufed  by  our  fouthern 
neighbours  ! — No  reafon  can  be  given  for  this,  but 
that  thf  capital  of  Scotland  is  now  become  a  provin- 
cial town,  and  London  is  the  feat  of  our  court. 

The  diftinclion  which  is  to  be  found,  in  the  lan- 
guages of  all  civilifed  nations,  between  low  and  po- 
lite modes  of  expreffion,  arifes  from  fimilar  caufes. 
It  is,  indeed,  amufing  to  remark,  the  folicitude  with 
which  the  higher  orders,  in  the  monarchies  of  mod- 
ern Europe,  avoid  every  circumftance  in  their  exte- 
rior appearance  and  manner,  which,  by  the  moft 
remote  affociation,  may  in  the  minds  of  others, 
connect  them  with  the  idea  of  the  multitude.  Their 
whole  drefs  and  deportment  and  converfation  are 
ftudioufly  arranged  to  convey  an  impofing  notion 
of  their  confequence  ;  and  to  recal  to  the  fpeflator 
by  numberlefs  flight  and  apparently  unintentional 
hints,  the  agreeable  impreffions  which  are  affocia- 
ted  with  the  advantages  of  fortune. 

To  this  influence  of  aflbciation  on  language,  it  is 
necefTary  for  every  writer  to  attend  carefully,  who 
wifhes  to  exprefs  himfelf  with  elegance.  For  the 
attainment  of  correclnefs  and  purity  in  the  ufe  of 
words,  the  rules  of  grammarians  and  of  critics  may 
be  a  fufficient  guide  ^  but  it  is  not  in  the  works  ©f 
this  clafs  of  authors,  that  the  higher  beauties  of 
flyle  are  to  be  ftudied.  As  the  air  and  manner  of 
a  gentleman  can  be  acquired  only  by  living  habitu- 
ally in  the  befl  fociety,  fo  grace  in  compufition  mufl 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  331 

be  attained  by  an  habitual  acquaintance  with  clafli- 
cal  writers.  It  is  indeed  neceflary  fo^  our  informa- 
tion, that  we  ihould  perufe  occafionally,  many  books 
which  have  no  merit  in  point  of  expreffion  ;  but  I 
believe  it  to  be  extremely  ufeful  to  all  literary  men, 
to  counterad  the  efFed  of  this  mifcellaneous  reading, 
by  maintaining  a  conftant  and  familiar  acquaintance 
with  a  few  of  the  moil  faultlefs  models  which  the 
language  affords.  For  want  of  fome  ftandard  of 
this  fort,  we  frequently  fee  an  author's  tafte  in  wri- 
ting alter  much  to  the  worfe  in  the  courfe  of  his 
life  ;  and  his  later  productions  fall  below  the  level 
of  his  early  effays.  D'Alembert  tells  us,  that  Vol- 
taire had  always  lying  on  his  table,  the  Petit  Car- 
cniie  of  Maffillon,  and  the  tragedies  ot  Racine  ;  the 
former  to  fix  his  tafte  in  profe  compoiition,  and  the 
latter  in  poetry. 

In  avoiding,  however,  expreflions  which  are  de- 
bafed  by  vulgar  ufe,  there  is  a  danger  of  running 
into  the  other  extreme,  in  queft  of  fafluonable 
vi^ords  and  phrafes.  Such  an  affedlation  may,  for  a 
few  years,  gratify  the  vanity  of  an  author,  by  giv- 
ing him  the  air  of  a  man  of  the  world;  but  the  rep- 
utation it  beftows,  is  of  a  very  tranfitory  nature. 
The  works  which  continue  to  pleafe  from  age  to 
age,  are  written  with  perfed  fimplicity  ;  while  thofe 
which'captivate  the  multitude  by  a  display  of  mere- 
tricious ornaments,  if,  by  chance,  they  Ihould  fur- 
vive  the  fafliions  to  which  they  are  accommodated, 
remain  only  to  furnilh  a  fubjecl  of  ridicule  to  pof- 
terity.  The  portrait  of  a  beautiful  woman,  in  the 
fafliionable  drefs  of  the  day,  may  pleafe  at  the  mo- 
ment it  is  painted ;  nay,  may  perhaps  pleafe  more 
than  in  any  that  the  fancy  of  tlie  artift  could  have 
fugqjefted  ;  but  it  is  only  in  the  plainefl  and  fimpleft 
drapery,  that  the  moft  perfect  form  can  be  tranf- 
mitted  with  advantage  to  future  tinies. 

The  exceptions  which  the  hiftory  of  literature 


3-32  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

feems  to  furnifli  to  thefe  obfervations,  are  only  ap- 
parent.     That,   in  the  works  of  our  beft   autliors, 
there  are  many  beauties  which  have  long  and  gen- 
erally  been  admired,  and  which  yet  owe  their  whole 
efFed  to  affociation,  cannot  be  disputed  :  but  in  iuch 
cafes,  it   will    always  be  found,  that    the   afTocia- 
tions   which    are  the  foundation  of  our   pleafure, 
have,  in  confequence  of  fome  peculiar  combination 
of  circumftances,  been  more  widely  difFufed,  and 
more    permanently    eftablifhed    among    mankind, 
than  thofe  which  date  their  origin  from  the   capri- 
ces of  our  own  age  are  ever  likely  to  be.      An  ad- 
miration for  the  claflical  remains  of  antiquity  is,  at 
prefent,  not  lefs  general  in  Europe,  than  the  advan- 
tages of  a  liberal  education  :  and  that  fuch  is  the  ef- 
fect of  this  admiration,  that  there  are  certain  capri- 
ces of  Tafte,  from  which  no  man  who  is  well  edu- 
cated is  entirely  free.      A  compofition  in  a  modern 
language,  which  fliould  fometimes  depart  from  the 
ordinary  modes  of  expreffion,  from  an  affedation  of 
the  idioms  which  are  confecrated  in  the  claffies, 
would  pleafe  a  very  wide  circle  of  readers,  in  con- 
fequence of  the  prevalence  of  claflical  aflbciations  ; 
and,   therefore,  iuch  afFe<51:ations,  however  abfurd 
when  carried  to  a  degree  of  Angularity,  are  of  a  far 
fuperior  clafs  to  thofe  which  are  adapted  to  the  fafli- 
ions  of  the  day.      But  ttill  the  general  principle 
holds  true,  that  whatever  beauties  derive  their  ori- 
gin merely  from  cafual  aflbciation,  muft  appear  ca- 
pricious to  thofe  to  whom  the   aflbciation  does  not 
extend ;  and  that  th^  fimplefl:  fl:yle  is  that  which 
continues  longefl:  to  pleafe,  and  which  pleafes  mofl: 
univerfally      In  the  writings  of  Mr.  Harris,  there  is 
a  certain  claflical  air,  which  will  always  have  many 
admirers,  while   antient  learning  continues   to  be 
cultivated  ;  but  which,  to  a  mere  Englifli   reader, 
appears   fomewhat  unnatural  and  ungraceful,  when 
compared  with  the  compolition  of  Swift  or  of  Ad- 
difon. 


QF  THE  HUMAN  MmD.  333 

The  analogy  of  the  arts  of  ftatuary  and  painting, 
may  be  of  ufe  in  ill  u  ft  rating  thefe  remarks.  The 
influence  of  antient  times  has  extended  to  thefe,  as 
well  as  lo  the  art  of  writing  ;  and  in  this  cafe,  no 
lefs  than  in  the  other,  the  tranfcendant  power  of 
genius  has  eftabliflied  a  propriety  of  choice  in  mat- 
ters of  indifference,  and  has,  perhaps,  confecrated, 
in  the  opinion  of  mankind,  fbme  of  its  own  caprices. 

"  Many  of  the  ornaments  of  art,"  (fays  Sir  J(  >ftiua 
Reynolds,)  "  thofe  at  leaft  for  which  no  reafon  can 
*^  be  given,  are  tranfmitted  to  us,  are  adopted,  and 
"  acquire  their  confequence,  from  the  company  in 
*'  which  we  have  been  uied  to  fee  them.  As  Greece 
*'  and  Rome  are  the  fountains  from  whence  have 
"  flowed  all  kinds  of  excellence,  to  that  veneration 
*V  which  they  have  a  right  to  claim  for  the  pleafure 
"  and  knowledge  which  they  have  afforded  us,  we 
*'  voluntarily  add  our  approbation  of  every  orna- 
"  ment  and  every  cuftom  that  belonged  to  them, 
*'  even  to  the  fafliion  of  their  drefs.  For  it  may  be 
"  obferved,  that,  not  fatisfied  with  them  in  their 
"  own  place,  we  make  no  difficulty  of  drefling  ftat- 
*'  utes  of  modern  heroes  or  fenators  in  the  fafhion 
"  of  the  Roman  armour,  or  peaceful  robe  ;  and  e- 
"  ven  go  fo  far  as  hardly  to  bear  a  ftatue  in  any  oth- 
"  er  drapery.** 

"  The  figures  of  the  great  men  of  thofe  nations 
**  have  come  down  to  us  in  fculpture.  In  fculpture 
**  remain  almoft  all  the  excellent  fpecimens  of  ancient 
*'  art.  We  have  fo  far  aflbciated  perfonal  dignity 
*'  to  the  perfons  thus  reprefented,  and  the  truth  of 
*'  art  to  their  manner  of  reprefentation,  that  it  is  not 
*«  in  our  power  any  longer  to  feparate  them.  This 
*«  is  not  fo  in  painting :  becaufe,  having  no  excellent 
*'  ancient  portraits,  that  connection  was  never  form- 
"  ed.  Indeed,  we  could  no  more  venture  to  paint 
"  a  general  ofiicer  in  a  Roman  military  habit,  than 
*f  we  could  make  a  llatue  in  the  prefent  uniform. 


36-4  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

«'  But  fince  we  have  no  ancient  portraits,  to  fhew 
*'  how  ready  we  are  to  adopt  thofe  kind  of  prejudi- 
<«  ces,  we  make  the  beft  authority  among  the  mod- 
'^  erns  ferve  the  fame  purpofe.  The  great  variety  of 
<«  excellent  portraits  with  which  Vandyke  has  en- 
"  riched  this  nation,  we  are  not  content  to  admire 
*^  for  their  real  excellence,  but  extend  our  approba- 
"  tion  even  to  the  drefs  which  happened  to  be  the 
«*  fafliion  of  that  age.  By  this  means,  it  muft  be 
*'  acknowledged,  very  ordinary  pidlures  acquired 
''  fomething  of-  the  air  and  effecl  of  the  works  of 
"  Vandyke,  and  appeared  therefore,  at  firft  fight, 
**  better  pidlures  than  they  really  were.  They  ap- 
*'  peared  fo  however,  to  thofe  only  who  had  the 
"  means  of  making  this  afibciation."* 

The  influence  of  affociation  on  our  notions  con- 
cerning  language,  is  ftill  more  ftrongly  exempUfied 
in  poetry  than  in  profe.  As  it  is  one  great  objedt 
of  the  poet,  in  his  ferious  productions,  to  elevate  the 
imagination  of  his  readers  above  the  groffnefs  of  fen- 
lible  objects,  and  the  vulgarity  of  common  life,  it  be- 
comes peculiarly  neceifary  for  him  to  rejed  the  ufe 
of  all  words  and  phrafes  which  are  trivial  and  hack- 
neyed. Among  thofe  which  are  equally  pure  and 
equally  perfpicuous,  he,  in  general,  finds  it  expedient 
to  adopt  that  which  is  the  leaft  common.  Milton 
prefers  the  words  Rhene  and  Danaw,  to  the  more 
common  words  Rhine  aud  Danube. 

"  A  multitude,  like  which  the  populous  North 
<*  Pour'd  never  from  his  frozen  loins,  to  pass 
**  Rhene  or  the  Danaw."t 

In  the  following  line, 

"  Things  unatteaipted  yet  in  prose  or  rhyme/* 

♦Reynold's  Discourses,  p.  313,  etseq. 
t  Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  I.  351, 


OF  THE  Human  mind.  335 

how  much  more  fuitable  to  the  poetical  ftyle  does 
the  expreffion  appear,  than  if  the  author  had  faid, 

"  Things  unattempted  yet  in  prose  or  verse." 

In  another  paflage,  where,  for  the  fake  of  variety, 
he  has  made  ufe  of  the  laft  phrafe,  he  adds  an  epi« 
thct,  to  remove  it  a  little  from  the  familiarity  of  or- 
dinary difcourfe, 


-*'  in  prose  or  numerous  verse."* 


In  confequence  of  this  circumftance,  there  arifes 
gradually  in  every  language  a  poetical  diction, 
which  differs  widely  from  the  common  dicl:ion  of 
profe.  It  is  much  lefs  fubjed  to  the  vicifTitudes  of 
fafhion,  than  the  polite  modes  of  expreflion  in  fa- 
miliar converfation  ;  becaufe,  when  it  has  once  been 
adopted  by  the  poet,  it  is  avoided  by  good  profe 
writers,  as  being  too  elevated  for  that  fpecies  of  com- 
pofiiion.  It  may  therefore  retain  its  charm,  as  long 
as  the  language  exifts  ;  nay,  the  charm  may  increafe, 
as  the  language  grows  older. 

Indeed,  the  charm  of  poetical  diction  muft  increafe 
to  a  certain  degree,  as  polite  literature  advances. 
For  when  once  a  fet  of  words  has  been  confecrated 
to  poetry,  the  very  found  of  them,  independently  of 
the  ideas  they  convey,  awakens,  every  time  we  hear 
it,  the  agreeable  imprellions  which  were  connected 
with  it  when  we  met  with  them  in  the  performan- 
ces of  our  favorite  authors.  Even  when  ilrung  to- 
gether in  fentences  which  convey  no  meaning,  they 
produce  fome  effed:  on  the  mind  of  a  reader  of  fen- 
iibility  :  an  effedt,  at  leaft,  extremely  different  from 
that  of  an  unmeaning  fentence  in  profe. 

Languages  differ  from  each  other  widely  in  the 
copioulnefs  of  their  poetical  didion.     Our  own  pof- 

*  Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  I.  150.    See  Newton's  Edit. 


336  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

feffes,  in  this  refpec^,  important  advantages  over  the 
French  :  not  that,  in  this  language,  there  are  no 
words  appropriated  to  poetry,  but  becaufe  their 
number  is,  comparatively  fpeaking,  extremely  lim- 
ited. 

The  fcantinefs  of  the  French  poetical  di^lion  is, 
probably,  attended  with  the  lefs  inconvenience,  that 
the  phrafes  which  occur  in  good  profe  writing  are 
lefs  degraded  by  vulgar  application  than  in  Englifh, 
in  confequence  of  the  line  being  more  diftind:ly  and 
more  ftrongly  drawn  between  polite  and  low  ex- 
preffions  in  that  language  than  in  ours.  Our  po- 
ets, indeed,  by  having  a  language  appropriated 
to  their  own  purpofes,  not  only  can  preferve  a 
dignity  of  expreflion,  but  can  connect  with  the 
perufal  of  their  compofitions,  the  plealing  im- 
preffions  which  have  been  produced  by  thofe  of 
their  predeceffors.  And  hence,  in  the  higher  forts 
of  poetry  where  their  object  is  to  kindle,  as  much 
as  poflible,  the  enthufiafm  of  their  readers,  they 
not  only  avoid,  fludioufly,  all  expreflions  which 
are  vulgar,  but  all  fuch  as  are  borrowed  from  falh- 
ionable  life.  This  certainly  cannot  be  done  in  an 
equal  degree  by  a  poet  who  writes  in  the  French  lan- 
guage. 

In  Englifh,  the  poetical  didion  is  fo  extremely  co- 
pious,  that  it  is  liable  to  be  abufed ;  as  it  puts  it  in 
the  power  of  authors  of  genius,  merely  by  ringing 
changes  on  the  poetical  vocabulary,  to  give  a  certain 
degree  of  currency  to  the  moft  unmeaning  compo- 
fitions. In  Pope's  Song  by  a  Per/on  of  Quality^  the 
incoherence  of  ideas  is  fcarceiy  greater  than  what  is 
to  be  found  in  fome  admired  paffages  of  our  fafh- 
ionable  poetry. 

Nor  is  it  merely  by  a  difference  of  words,  that  the 
language  of  poetry  is  diflin^uifhed  from  that  of 
profe.  When  a  poetical  arrangement  of  words  has 
once  been  eiiablifhed  by  authors  of  reputation,  the 
moft  common  expreflions.  by  being  prefented  in  this 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  SS7 

©onfecrated  order,  may  ferve  to  excite  poetical  aflb- 
ciatioiis. 

On  the  other  hand,  nothing  more  completely  de- 
ftroys  the  charm  of  poetry,  than  a  tiring  of  words 
which  the  cuftom  of  ordinary  difcourfe  has  arran- 
ged in  fo  invariable  an  order,  that  the  whole  phrafe 
,may  be  anticipated  from  hearing  its  commencement. 
A  lingle  word  frequently  ftrikes  us  as  flat  and  profaic, 
in  confequence  of  its  familiarity  ;  but  two  fuch 
words  coupled  together  in  the  order  of  converfation 
can  fcarcely  be  introduced  into  ferious  poetry  with- 
out appearing  ludicrous. 

No  poet  in  our  language  has  fhewn  fo  ftrikingly 
as  Milton,  the  wonderftil  elevation  which  ftyle  may 
derive  from  an  arrangement  of  words,  which,  while 
it  is  perfedly  intelligible,  departs  widely  from  that 
to  which  we  are  in  general  accuftomed.  M?.ny  of 
his  moft  fublime  periods,  when  the  order  of  the  words 
is  altered,  are  reduced  nearly  to  the  level  of  profe. 

To  copy  this  artifice  with  fuccefs,  is  a  much  more 
difficult  attainment  than  is  commonly  imagined  ; 
and,  of  confequence,  when  it  is  acquired,  it  fecures 
an  author,  t©  a  great  degree,  from  that  crowd  of  imi- 
tators who  fpoil  the  efFed  of  whatever  is  noj:  beyond 
their  reach.  To  the  poet  who  ufes  blank  verfe,  it  is 
an  acquifition  of  ftill  more  efTential  confequence  than 
to  him  who  exprelTes  himfelf  in  rhyme  ;  for  the 
more  that  the  ftrudlure  of  the  verfe  approaches  iq 
profe,  the  more  it  is  necelfary  to  give  novelty  and 
dignity  to  the  compofition.  And  accordingly,  a- 
mong  our  magazme  poets,  ten  thoufand  catch  the 
ftruAure  of  Pope's  vorfification,  for  one  who  ap* 
proaches  to  the  manner  of  Milton,  or  of  Thomfon. 

The  facility,  however,  of  this  imitation,  like  eve- 
ry  other,  increafes  with  the  number  of  thole  who 
have  ftudied  it  with  fuccefs ;  for  the  more  numer- 
ous the  authors  who  have  employed  their  genius  in 
any  one  dire6bion,  the  more  copious  are  the  materi- 


SS8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

als  out  of  which  mediocrity  may  felec^  and  combine, 
fo  as  to  efcapc  the  charge  of  plagair'-fm.  And,  in 
fa6l,  in  our  own  language,  this,  as  well  as  the  other 
great  refource  of  poetical  expreflion,  the  employ- 
ment of  appropriated  words,  has  had  its  efFe6l  fo 
much  impaired  by  the  abule  which  has  been  made 
of  it,  that  a  few  of  our  beft  poets  of  late  have  en- 
deavored to  ftrike  out  a  new  path  for  themfelves,  by 
refting  the  elevation  of  their  compofition  chiefly  on 
a  fingular,  and,  to  an  ordinary  writer,  an  unattaina- 
ble union  of  harmonious  verlification,  with  a  natu- 
ral arrangement  of  words,  and  a  fimple  elegance  of 
expreflion.  It  is  this  union  which  feems  to  form 
the  diftinguifliing  charm  of  the  poetry  of  Gold- 
fmith. 

From  the  remarks  which  have  been  made  on  t  he 
influence  of  the  aflbciation  of  ideas  on  our  ju  dg- 
ments  in  matters  of  tafte,  it  is  obvious  how  much 
the  opinions  of  a  nation  with  refped  to  merit  in 
the  fine  arts,  are  likely  to  be  influenced  by  the  form 
of  their  government,  and  the  ftate  of  their  man- 
ners. Voltaire,  in  his  difcourfe  pronounced  at  his 
reception  into  the  French  academy,  gives  feveral 
reafons  why  the  poets  of  that  country  have  not  fuc- 
ceeded  in  defcribing  rural  fcenes  and  employm.ents. 
The  principal  one  is,  the  ideas  of  meannefs,  and  pov- 
erty and  wretchednefs,  which  the  French  are  accuf- 
tomed  to  aflcKiate  with  the  profefiion  of  hufbandry. 
The  fame  thing  is  alluded  to  by  the  Abbe  de  Lille,  in 
the  preliminary  difcourfe  prefixed  to  his  tranflation 
of  the  Georgics.  "  A  tranflation,"  fays  he, "  of  this 
*'  poem,  if  it  had  been  undertaken  by  an  author  of 
"  genius,  would  have  been  better  calculated  than 
'*  any  other  work,  for  adding  to  the  riches  of  our 
"  language.  A  verfion  of  the  ^neid  itfelf,  howev- 
*«  er  well  executed,  would,  in  this  refped:,  be  of  lefs 
"  utility  ;  inafmuch  as  the  genius  of  our  tongue  ac- 
*'  commodates  itfelf  m.ore  eafily  to  the  defcription 


QF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  559^ 

"  of  heroic  achievements,  than  to  the  details  of  nat- 
"  ural  phenomena,  and  of  the  operations  of  hufband- 
"  ry.  To  force  it  to  exprefs  thefe  with  fuitable  dig- 
"  nity,  would  have  been  a  real  conqueft  over  that 
"  falfe  delicacy,  which  it  has  contracted  from  our 
"  unfortunate  prejudices." 

How  different  muft  have  been  the  emotions  with 
which  this  divine  performance  of  Virgil  was  read  by 
an  ancient  Roman,  while  he  recoiieded  that  period 
in  the  hiftory  of  his  country,  when  dictators  were 
called  from  the  plough  to  the  defence  of  the  ftate, 
and  after  having  led  monarchs  in  triumph,  returned 
again  to  the  fame  happy  and  independent  occupa- 
tion. A  ftate  of  manners  to  which  a  Roman  author 
of  a  later  age  looked  back  with  fuch  enthujlafm, 
that  he  afcribes,  by  a  bold  poetical  figure,  the  flour- 
ifhing  ftate  of  agriculture  under  the  republic,  to  the 
grateful  returns  which  the  earth  then  made  to  the 
illuftrious  hands  by  which  flxe  was  cultivated. — 
"  Gaudente  terra  vomere  laureato,  et  triumphali 
"  aratore.'** 


SECTION  III. 

Oft/je  Influence  of  AJfodation  on  our  aBive  PrincipleSy  and 
on  our  moral  Judgments, 

IN  order  to  illuftrate  a  little  farther,  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Affociation  of  Ideas  on  the  human  mind,  I 
fhall  add  a  few  remarks  on  lome  of  its  eft'edls  on  our 
a6live  and  moral  principles.  In  ftating  thefe  re- 
marks, I  fliall  endeavor  to  avoid,  as  much  as  poflible, 
every  occafion  of  controverfy,  by  confining  myfelf 
to  fuch  general  views  of  the  fubje<5t,  as  do  not  pre- 
fuppofe  any  particular  enumeration  of  our  original 
principles  of  acT:ion,  or  any  particular  fyflera  con- 

*  riin.  Nat.  Hiit.xviiL  4. 


340  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

cerning  the  nature  of  the  moral  faculty.  If  my 
health  and  leifure  enable  me  to  carry  my  plans  into 
execution,  I  propofe,  in  the  fequel  of  this  work,  to 
refume  thefe  inquiries,  and  to  examine  the  various 
opinions  to  which  they  have  given  rife. 

The  manner  in  which  the  aifjciation  of  ideas  ope- 
rates in  producing  new  principles  of  adion,  has  been 
explained  very  diltindlly  by  different  writers.  What- 
ever conduces  to  the  gratification  of  any  natural  ap- 
petite, or  of  any  natural  defire,  is  itfelf  defired  on 
account  of  the  end  to  which  it  is  fubfervient ;  and 
by  being  thus  habitually  affociated  in  our  apprehen- 
lion  with  agreeable  objects,  it  frequently  comes,  in 
procefs  of  time,  to  be  regarded  as  valuable  in  itfelf, 
independently  of  its  utility.  It  is  thus  that  wealth 
becomes,  with  many,  an  ultimate  obje6l  of  purfuit  ; 
although,  at  firft,  it  is  undoubtedly  valued,  merely 
on  account  of  its  fubferviency  to  the  attainm.ent  of 
other  objecls.  In  like  manner,  men  are  led  to  defire 
drefs,  equipage,  retinue,  furniture,  on  account  of  the 
eftimation  in  which  they  are  fuppofed  to  be  held  by 
the  public.  Such  delires  are  called  by  Dr.  Hutche- 
l^on*  fecondary  defires  ;  and  the  origin  is  explained 
by  him  in  the  way  which  I  have  mentioned.  "  Since 
*'  we  are  capable,"  fays  he,  "  of  reflection,  memory, 
"  obfervation,  and  reafoning  about  the  diltant  ten- 
"  dencies  of  objects  and  actions,  and  not  confined  to 
"  things  prefent,  there  muft  arife,  in  confequenceof 
*'  our  original  delires,  fecondary  deOres  of  every 
*'  thing  imagined  ufeful  to  gratify  any  of  the  primg^ 
'*  ry  defires  ;  and  that  with  ftrength  proportioned  to 
**  the  feveral  original  defires,  and  imagined  ufeful- 
*^*  nefs  or  neceflity  of  the  advantageous  objed." — 
"  Thus,"  he  continues,  "  as  foon  as  we  con^e  to  ap- 
"  prehend  the  ufe  of  wealth  or  power  to  gratify  any 
*'  of  our  original  defires,  we  muft  alfo  defire  them  ; 
"  and  hence  arifes  the  univerfality  of    thefe  defires 

*  See  his  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINB.  341 

"  of  wealth  and  power,  fince  they  are  the  means  of 
*«  gratifying  all  other  defires."  The  only  thing  that 
appears  to  me  exceptionable  in  the  foregoing  paf- 
fage  is,  that  the  author  claffes  the  defire  of  power 
with  that  of  wealth ;  whereas  I  apprehend  it  to  be 
clear,  (for  reafons  which  I  (hall  ftate  in  another  part 
of  this  work,)  that  the  former  is  a  primary  defire, 
and  the  latter  a  fecondary  one. 

Our  moral  judgments,  too,  may  be  modified,  and 
even  perverted,  to  a  certain  degree,  in  confequence 
of  the  operation  of  the  lame  principle.  In  the  fame 
manner  in  which  a  perfon  who  is  regarded  as  a  mo- 
del of  tafi:e  may  introduce,  by  his  example,  an  abfurd 
or  fantaftical  drefs  ;  fo  a  man  of  fplendid  virtues 
may  attract  fome  efteem  alfo  to  his  imperfections  ; 
and,  if  placed  in  a  confpicuous  fituation,  may  render 
his  vices  and  follies  objeiEls  of  general  imitation 
among  the  multitude. 

"  In  the  reign  of  Charles  11."  fays  Mr.  Smith,* 
"  a  degree  of  licentioufnefs  was  deemed  the  charac- 
**  terillic  of  a  liberal  education.  It  was  conneded, 
"  according  to  the  notions  of  thofe  times,  with  gen- 
<«  erofity,  fincerity,  magnanimity,  loyalty  ;  and  pro- 
«  ved  that  the  perfon  who  aded  in  this  manner,  was 
"  a  gentlem^,  and  not  a  puritan.  Severity  of  man- 
"  riers,  and  regularity  of  conduct,  on  the  other  hand, 
"  were  altogether  unfafliionable,  and  were  connedt- 
<«  ed,  in  the  imagination  of  that  age,  with  cant^  cun- 
"  ning,  hypocrify,  and  low  manners.  To  fuperfi- 
"  cial  minds,  the  vices  of  the  great  feem  at  all  times 
"  agreeable.  They  jonneft  them,  not  only  with 
**  the  fplendor  of  fortune,  but  with  many  fuperior 
**  virtues  which  they  afcribe  to  their  fuperiors ;  with 
"  the.  fpirit  of  freedom  and  independency ;  with 
*'  franknefs,  generofity,  humanity,  and  poUtenefs. 

*'  The  virtues  of  the  inferior  ranks  of  people,  on 

• 

*  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 


342  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  the  contrary,  their  parfimonious  frugality,  their 
"  painful  induftry,  and  rigid  adherence  to  rules, 
"  feeni  to  them  mean  and  difagreeable.  They  con- 
"  ned  them  both  with  the  meannefs  of  the  ftation 
"  to  which  thefe  qualities  commonly  belong,  and 
"  with  many  great  vices  which  they  fuppofe  ufually 
"  accompany  them  ;  fuch  as  an  abjefl,  cowardly,  ill- 
*'  natured,  lying,  pilfering  difpofition." 

The  theory  which,  in  the  foregoing  palTages  from 
Hutchefonand  Smith,  is  employed  fojuftly  and  phi- 
lofophically  to  explain  the  origin  of  our  fecondary 
defires,  and  to  account  for  fome  perverfions  of  our 
moral  judgments,  has  been  thought  fufficient,  by 
fome  later  writers,  to  account  for  the  origin   of  all 
our  adive  principles  without  exception.       The  firft 
of  thefe  attempts  to  extend  fo  very  far  the   applica- 
tion of  the  dv)dlrine  of  Aflbciation  was  made  by  the 
Rev,  Mr.  Gay,  in  a  diifertation   "  concerning  the 
"  fundamental  Principle  of  Virtue,"  which  is  prefix- 
ed by  Dr.   Law  to  his  tranilation  of  Archbifhop 
King's  Effay   "  On  the  Origin  of  Evil."       In  this 
differtation,  the   author  endeavours  to  fhew,  "  that 
"  our  approbation  of  morality,  and  all    affeclions 
''  whatfoever,    are  finally    refolvable    into  reafon, 
"  pointing  out   private  happinefs,  and  are  conver- 
''  fant  only  about  things  apprehended  to  be  means 
"  tending  to  this  end  ;  and  that  wherever  this  end 
*'  is  not  perceived,  they   are  to  be  accounted   for 
*'  from  the  aflbciation  of  ideas,  and  may   properly 
"  be  called  habits"     The  fame  principles  have  been 
fince  pufhed  to  a  much  greater  length  by  Dr.  Hart- 
ley, whofe  fyftem  (as  he  himfelf  informs  us)    took 
rife  from  his   accidentally  hearing  it  mentioned  as 
an  opinion  of  Mr.  Gay,  "  that  the  afl()ciation  of  i- 
"  deas  was  fufficient  to  account  for  all  our  intelled:- 
*'  ual  pleafures  and  pains*." 

*Mr.  Hume  too,  who  in  mj  opinion  has  carried  this  principle 
©f  the  Association  of  Ideas  a  great  deal  too  far;  has  compared  the 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  34S 

It  muft,  I  think,  in  juftice,  be  acknowledged, 
that  this  theory,  concerning  the  origin  of  our  affect- 
ions, and  of  the  moral  fense,  is  a  moft  ingenious  re- 
finement upon  the  felfifh  fyftem,  as  it  was  formerly 
taught ;  and  that,  by  means  of  it,  the  force  of  many 
of  the  common  reafonings  againft  that  fyftem  is  e- 
luded.  Among  thefe  reafonings,  particular  ftrefs 
has  always  been  laid  on  the  inftantaneousnefs  with 
which  our  affe(^ions  operate,  and  the  moral  fenfe 
approves  or  condemns ;  and  on  our  total  want  of 
confcioufnefs,  in  fuch  cafes,  of  any  reference  to  our 
own  happinefs.  The  modern  advocates  for  the 
felfifh  fyftem  admit  the  fad  to  be  as  it  is  ftated  by 
their  opponents ;  and  grant,  that  after  the  moral 
fense  and  our  various  affedlions  are  formed,  their 
exercife,  in  particular  cafes,  may  become  completely 
difinterefted  ;  but  ftill  they  contend,  that  it  is  upon 
a  regard  to  our  own  happinefs  that  all  thefe  princi- 
ples are  originally  grafted.  The  analogy  of  avarice 
will  ferve  to  illuftrate  the  fcope  of  this  theory.  It 
cannot  be  doubted  that  this  principle  of  action  is  ar- 
tificial. It  is  on  account  of  the  enjoyments  which  it 
enables  us  to  purchafe,  that  money  is  originally  de- 
fired  ;  and  yet,  in  procefs  of  time,  by  means  of  the 
agreeable  impreffions  which  are  afTociated  with  it, 
it  comes  to  be  defired  for  its  own  fake ;  and  even 
continues  to  be  an  objed  of  our  purfuit,  long  after 
we  have  loft  all  relifh  for  thofe  enjoyments  which  it 
enables  us  to  command. 

Without  meaning  to  engage  in  any  controverfy 
on  the  fubjed,  I  fhall  content  myfelf  with  obferving, 
in  general,  that  there  muft  be  fome  limit,  beyond 

universality  of  its  applications  in  the  philosophy  of  nriind,  to  that 
of  the  principle  of  attraction  in  physics.  "  Here,"  says  he,  "  is  a 
"  kind  of  attraction,  which  in  the  mental  world  will  be  found  to 
**  have  as  extraordinary  effects  as  in  the  natural,  and  to  shew  itself 
"  in  as  many  and  as  various  forms.'*  Trent,  if  Hum.  Nat.  vol.  i. 
p.  30 


344  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPIiy 

which  the  theory  of  aflbciation  cannot  poflibly  be  car- 
ried ;  for  the  explanation  which  it  gives,  of  the  for- 
mation of  new  principles  of  action,  proceeds  on  the 
fuppofition  that  there  are  other  principles  previoufly 
exifling  in  the  mind.  The  great  queftion  then  is, 
when  we  are  arrived  at  this  Umit  ;  or,  in  other 
words,  when  we  are  arrived  at  the  fimple  and  origin- 
al laws  of  our  conftitution. 

In  conducing  this  inquiry,  philofophers  have  been 
apt  to  go  into  extremes.  Lprd  Kaims,  and  fome 
otherauthors,  have  been  cenmred,  and  perhaps  juft- 
ly,  for  a  difpofition  to  multiply  original  principles  to 
an  unneceffary  degree.  It  may  be  queftioned,  whe- 
ther  Dr.  Hartley,  and  his  followers,  have  not  fome- 
times  been  milled  by  too  eager  a  deiire  of  abridging 
their  number. 

Of  thefe  two  errors,  the  former  is  the  leaft  com- 
mon, and  the  leaft  dangerous.  It  is  the  leaft  com- 
mon, becaufe  it  is  not  fo  flattering  as  the  other  to 
the  vanity  of  a  theorift  ;  and  it  is  the  leaft  danger- 
ous,  becaufe  it  has  no  tendency,  like  the  other,  to 
give  rife  to  a  fuppreflion,  or  to  a  mifreprefentation 
of  fads  ;  or  to  retard  the  progrefs  of  the  fcience,  by 
beftowing  upon  it  an  appearance  of  fyftematical  per- 
fedion,  to  which,  in  its  prefent  ftate,  it  is  not  enti- 
tled. 

Abftrading,  however,  from  thefe  inconveniences, 
which  muft  always  refult  from  a  precipitate  reference 
of  phenomena  to  general  principles,  it  does  not  feem 
to  me  that  the  theory  in  queftion  has  any  tendency 
to  weaken  the  foundation  of  morals.  It  has,  indeed, 
fome  tendency,  in  common  with  the  philofophy  of 
Hobbes  and  of  Mandeville,  to  degrade  the  dignity  of 
human  nature  ;  but  il  leads  to  no  fceptical  conclu- 
fions  concerning  the  rule  of  life.  For,  although  we 
were  to  grant,  that  all  our  principles  of  action  are 
acquired  ;  fo  ftriking  a  difference  among  them  muft 
ftill  be  admitted,  as  is  fufiicient  to  diftinguifti  clearly 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  345 

thofe  univerfal  laws  which  where  intended  to  regu- 
late human  condud,  from  the  local  habits  which  are 
formed  by  education  and  fafliion.  It  muft  ftill  be 
admitted,  that  while  fome  adive  principles  are  con- 
fined to  particular  individuals,  or  to  particular  tribes 
of  men  ;  there  are  others,  which,  arifing  from  cir- 
cumftances  in  which  all  the  lituations  of  mankind 
mud  agree,  are  common  to  the  whole  fpecies.  Such 
adive  principles  as  fall  under  this  laft  defcription, 
at  whatever  period  of  life  they  may  appear,  are  to 
be  regarded  as  a  part  of  human  nature,  no  lefs  than 
the  inftincl  of  fudion  ;  in  the  fame  manner  as  the 
acquired  perception  of  ditlance  by  the  eye,  is  to  be 
ranked  among  the  perceptive  powers  of  man,  no  lefs 
than  the  original  perceptions  of  lany  of  our  other 
fenfes. 

Leaving,  therefore,  the  queftion  concerning  the 
origin  of  our  adive  principles,  and  of  the  moral  fac- 
ulty, to  be  the  fubjed  of  future  dilcuflion,  I  (hall 
conclude  this  Sedion  with  a  few  remarks  of  a  more 
pradical  nature. 

It  has  been  fhewn  by  different  writers,  how  much 
of  the  beauty  and  fublimity  of  n.aterial  objeds  arifes 
from  the  ideas  and  feelings  which  we  have  been 
taught  to  afTociate  with  them.  The  impreflion  pro- 
duced on^the  external  fenfes  of  a  poet,  by  the  moft 
fir  iking  fcene  in  nature,  is  precifely  the  fame  with 
what  is  produced  on  the  fenfes,  of  a  peafant  or  a 
tradefman  ;  yet  how  different  is  the  degree  of  plea- 
fure  refulting  from  this  impreflion  !  A  great  part  of 
this  difference  is  undoubtedly  to  be  afcribed,  to  the 
ideas  and  feelings  which  the  habitual  fludies  and 
amufetnents  of  the  poet  have  affociated  with  his  or- 
ganical  perceptions. 

A  fimilar  obfervation  may  be  applied  to  all  the  va- 
rious objeds  of  our  purfuit  in  life.  Hardly  any  one 
of  them  is  appreciated  by  any  two  men  in  the  fame 
manner  ;  and  frequently  what  one  man  confiders  ^s 
Uu 


346  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

effential  to  his  happinefs,  is  regarded  with  indifier- 
ence  or  diflike  by  another.  Of  thefe  differences  of 
opinion,  much  is,  no  doubt,  to  be  afcribed  to  a  diverfi- 
ty  of  conftitution,  which  renders  a  particular  employ- 
ment of  the  intellecftual  or  adive  powers  agreeable 
to  one  man,  which  is  not  equally  fo  to  another.  But 
much  is  alfo  to  be  afcribed  to  the  effefl  of  afTociation  ; 
which,  prior  to  any  experience  of  human  life,  con- 
neds  pleafmg  ideas  and  pleafmg  feelings  with  differ- 
ent objedls,  in  the  minds  of  different  perfons. 

In  confequence  of  thefe  afG)ciations,  every  man 
appears  to  his  neighbor  to  purfue  the  object  of  his 
wifhes,  with  a  zeal  difproportioned  to  its  intrinfic 
value  ;  and  the  prilofopher  (whofe  principal  enjoy- 
ment arifes  from  fpeculation)  is  frequently  apt  to 
fmile  at  the  ardour  with  which  the  aftive  part  of 
mankind  purfue,  what  appear  to  him  to  be  mere 
fliadows.  This  view  of  human  affairs,  fome  writers 
have  carried  fo  far,  as  to  reprefent  life  as  a  fcene  of 
mere  illuiions,  where  the  mind  refers  to  the  objecls 
around  it,  a  coloring  which  exifts  only  in  itfelf ;  and 
where,  as  the  Poet  expreffes  it, 

*'  Opinion  gilds  with  varying  rays, 

"  Those  painted  clouds  which  beautify  out  days.*' 

It  may  be  queffioned,  if  thefe  reprefentations  of 
human  life  be  ufeful  or  juft.  That  the  cafual  affo- 
ciations  which  the  mind  forms  in  childhood,  and  in 
early  youth,  are  frequently  a  fource  of  inconvenience 
and  of  mifcondud,  is  fufliciently  obvious  ;  but  that 
this  tendency  of  our  nature  increafes,  on  the  whole, 
the  fum  of  human  enjoyment,  appears  to  me  to  be 
indifputable  ;  and  the  inftances  in  which  it  mifleads 
us  from  our  duty  and  our  happinefs,  only  prove,  to 
what  important  ends  it  might  be  fubfervient,  if  it 
were  kept  under  proper  regulation. 

Nor  do  thefe  leprefen  tat  ions  of  life  (admitting 
them  in  their  full  extent)  julUf y  the  pradical  infer- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  347 

ences  which  have  been  often  deduced  from  them,with 
refpect  to  the  vanity  of  our  purfuits.  In  every  cafe, 
indeed,  in  which  our  enjoyment  depends  upon  aflb- 
ciaiion,  it  may  be  faid,  in  one  fenfe,  that  it  arifes 
from  the  mind  itfelf ;  but  it  does  not  therefore  fol- 
low, that  the  external  objed  which  cuftom  has  ren- 
<lered  the  caufe  or  the  occafion  of  agreeable  emotions, 
is  indifferent  to  our  happinefs.  The  efFed  which 
the  beauties  of  nature  produce  on  the  mind  of  the 
poet,  is  wonderfully  heightened  by  aflbciation  ;  but 
his  enjoyment  is  not,  on  that  account,  the  lefs  exquif- 
ite  :  nor  are  the  objects  of  his  admiration  of  the  lefs 
value  to  his  happinefs,  that  they  derive  their  princi- 
pal charms  from  the  embellifhments  of  his  fancy. 

It  is  the  bufinefs  of  education,  not  to  countera(51:, 
in  any  inftance,  the  eftabliflied  laws  of  our  conftitu- 
tion,  but  to  dired:  them  to  their  proper  purpofes. 
That  the  influence  of  early  aflbciations  on  the  mind 
might  be  employed,  in  the  moft  effectual  manner,  to 
aid  our  moral  principles,  appears  evidently  from  the 
effects  which  we  daily  fee  it  produce,  in  reconciling 
men  to  a  courfe  of  adion  which  their  reafon  forces 
them  to  condemn  ;  and  it  is  no  lefs  obvious  that,  by 
means  of  it,  the  happinefs  of  human  life  might  be 
increafed,  and  its  pains  diminiihed,  if  the  agreeable 
ideas  and  feelings  which  children  are  fo  apt  to  con- 
nect with  events  and  with  fituations  which  depend 
on  the  caprice  of  fortune,  were  firmly  affociated  in 
their  apprehenfions  with  the  duties  of  their  ftations, 
with  the  purfuits  of  fcience,  and  with  thofe  beauties 
of  nature  which  are  open  to  all. 

Thefe  obfervations  coincide  nearly  with  the  an- 
tient  ftoical  doctrine  concerning  the  influence  of 
imagination!*^  on  morals  ;  a  fubjedt,  on  which  many  im- 

*  According  to  the  use  which  I  make  of  the  wonis  Imagination 
and  Association,  in  this  work,  their  effects  are  obviously  distinguish- 
able. I  have  thought  it  proper,  however,  to  illustrate  the  difier- 
ence  between  them  a  little  more  fully  in  Note  [R.] 


348  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

portant  remarks,  (though  expreffed  in  a  form  differ- 
ent from  that  which  modern  philofophers  have  in- 
troduced, and,  perhaps,  not  altogether  fo  precife  and 
accurate,)  are  to  be  found  in  the  Difcourfes  of  Epic- 
tetus,  and  in  the  Meditations  of  Antoninus.*  This 
dodrine  of  the  Stoical  fchool,  Dr.  Akenfide  has  in 
view  in  the  following  paffage  : 

"  Action  treads  the  path 
"  In  which  Opinion  says  he  follows  good, 
<f  Or  flies  from  evil  ;  and  Opinion  gives 
"  Report  of  good  or  evil,  as  the  scene 
**  Was  drawn  by  fancy,  lovely  or  deform'd  : 
•"  Thus  her  report  can  never  there  be  true, 
**  Where  fancy  cheats  the  intellectual  eye 
**  With  glaring  colours  and  distorted  lines. 
"  Is  there  a  man,  who  at  the  sound  of  death 
**  Sees  ghastly  shapes  of  terror  conjur'd  up, 
**  And  black  before  him :  nought  but  death-bed  groans 
*'  And  fearful  prayers,  and  plunging  from  the  brink 
**  Of  light  and  being,  down  the  gloomy  air, 
"  An  unknown  depth  ?    Alas !  in  such  a  mind, 
"  If  no  bright  forms  of  excellence  attend 
*'  The  image  of  his  country  ;  nor  the  pomp 
<'  Of  sacred  senates,  nor  the  guardian  voice 
"  Of  justice  on  her  throne,  nor  aught  that  wakes 
"  The  conscious  bosom  with  a  patriot's  flame : 
"  Will  not  Opinion  tell  him,  that  to  die, 
<*  Or  stand  the  hazard,  is  a  greater  ill 
"  Than  to  betray  his  country  ?  And  in  act 
**  Will  he  not  chuse  to  be  a  wretch  and  live  ? 
**  Here  vice  begins  then."! 

*  See  what  Epictetus  has  remarked  on  the  y^^an  otx  ^e7  (pavra- 
fftwv.  (Arrian,  1.  i.  c.  12.)  'Oia,  av  voXXaxis  (pxvra.crOriS,  roixvrvi  cot 
tartxi  V  ^latfoia.  ^atrrtroii  yot^  viro  ruv  (^xvroia-nifv  ^  ^v^y,.  ^onrri  «» 
«vT>3y,  T*)  (Tvn^iKx.  ruv  roturuv  ^ocrraa-tuvj  &C.  &C.  Allton,  I.  V.  C 
16.        ' 

t  Pleasures  of  ImaginRtion,  b  iii* 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  349 


SECTION  IV. 


General  Remarks  on  the  Subjeds  treated  in  the  foregoing 
Sedions  of  this  Chapter* 

IN  perufing  the  foregoing  Sedions  of  this  Chap, 
ter,  I  am  aware,  that  fome  of  my  readers  may  be  apt 
to  think  that  many  of  the  obfeivations  which  I  have 
made,  might  eafily  be  refolved  into  more  general 
principles.  I  am  alfo  aware,  that,  to  the  followers 
of  Dr.  Hartley,  a  fimilar  objedlion  will  occur  againft 
all  the  other  parts  of  this  work;  and  that  it  will  appear 
to  them  the  effed  of  inexcufable  prejudice,  that  I 
fhould  ftop  ftiort  fo  frequently  in  the  explanation 
of  phenomena  ;  when  he  has  accounted  in  fo  fatif- 
fadory  a  manner,  by  means  of  the  aiTociation  of 
ideas,  for  all  the  appearances  which  human  nature 
exhibits. 

To  this  objedion,  I  fhall  not  feel  myfelf  much  in- 
terefted  to  reply,  provided  it  be  granted  that  my 
obfervations  are  candidly  and  accurately  ftated  fo 
far  as  they  reach.  Suppofmg  that  in  fome  cafes  I 
may  have  flopped  fhort  too  foon,  my  fpeculations, 
although  they  may  be  cenfured  as  imperfeft,  cannot 
be  confidered  as  Handing  in  oppofition  to  the  conclu- 
fions  of  more  fuccefsful  inquirers. 

May  I  be  allowed  farther  to  obferve,  that  fuch 
views  of  the  human  mind  as  are  contained  in  this 
work,  (even  fuppofing  the  obiedion  to  be  well- 
founded,)  are,  in  my  opinion,  mdifpenfably  necef- 
fary,  in  order  to  prepare  the  way  for  thofe  very  ge- 
neral and  comprehenfive  theories  concerning  it, 
which  fome  eminent  writers  of  the  prefent  age 
have  been  ambitious  to  form.  ? 

Concerning  the  merit  of  thefe  theories,  I  fhall  not 
prefume  to  give  any  judgment.     I  fhall  only  remark, 


330  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

that,  in  all  the  other  fciences,  the  progrefs  of  difcov- 
ery  has  been  gradual,  from  the  lefs  general  to  the 
more  general  laws  of  nature  ;  and  that  it  would  be 
fingular,  indeed,  if,  in  the  Philoiophy  of  the  Hu- 
man Mind,  a  fcience,  which  but  a  few  years  ago 
was  confeffedly  in  its  infancy,  and  which  certainly 
labours  under  many  difadvantages  peculiar  to  itfelf, 
a  ilep  fhould,  all  at  once,  be  made  to  a  fingle  princi- 
ple comprehending  all  the  particular  phenomena 
Wtiich  we  know. 

Suppofmg  fuch  a  theory  to  be  completely  eftablifli- 
ed,  i.  would  dill  be  proper  to  lead  the  minds  of  flu- 
dems  to  it  by  gradual  fleps.  One  of  the  mofl 
important  ules  of  theory,  is  to  give  the  memory  a 
permanent  hold,  and  a  prompt  command,  of  the 
particular  facts  which  we  were  previoufly  acquaint- 
ed with  ;  and  no  theory  can  be  completely  under- 
ftood,  unlefs  the  mind  be  led  to  it  nearly  in  the  or- 
der  of  invefligation. 

It  is  more  particularly  ufeful,  in  conducing  the 
fludies  of  others,  to  familiarife  their  minds,  as  com- 
pletely as  poilible,  with  thofe  laws  of  nature  for 
which  we  have  the  direct  evidence  of  fenfe,  or  of 
confcioufnefs,  before  directing  their  inquiries  to  the 
more  abftrufe  and  refined  generalizations  of  fpecula- 
tive  curioiity.  In  natural  philofophy,  fuppofmg  the 
theory  of  Bofcovich  to  be  true,  it  would  llill  be  pro- 
per, or  rather  indeed  abfolutely  necefTary,  to  accuf- 
tom  ftudents,  in  the  firft  flage  of  their  phyfical  edu- 
cation, to  dwell  on  thofe  general  phyfical  fadts 
which  fall  under  our  adual  obfervation,  and  about 
which  all  the  practical  arts  of  life  are  converfant.  In 
like  manner,  in  the  philofophy  of  mind,  there  are 
many  general  facets  for  which  we  have  the  dire<ft 
evidence  of  confciousnefs.  The  words  Attention, 
Conception,  Memory,  Abftraction,  Imagination, 
Curiofity,  Ambition,  Compaffion,  Refentment,  ex- 
prefs  powers  and  principles  of  our  nature,  which 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  351 

every  man  may  ftudy  by  refleding  on  his  own  in- 
ternal operations.        Words  correfponding  to  thefe, 
are  to  be  found  in  all  languages,  ar.d  may  be  corilid- 
ered  as  forming    the  firft  attempt  towards  a  philo- 
phical  claflification   of  intellectual   and  mora)    phe- 
nomena.     Such  a  claflification,  however  imperfect 
and  indiftindl,  we  may  be  affured,  muft  have    fome 
foundation  in  nature  ;  and  it  is  at  leaft  prudent,  for 
a  philofopher  to  keep  it  in  view  as  the  ground- work 
of  his  own  arrangement.      It  not  only  directs  our 
attention  to  thofe  facts  in  the  human  conftitution, 
on  which  every  folid  theory  in  this   branch  of  fci- 
ence  muft  be  founded  ;  but  to  the  fa^ts,  which,  in 
all  ages,  have  appeared  to  the  common  fenfe  of  man- 
kind, to  be  the  moft  Itriking  and  important  ;  and  of 
which    it   ought  to  be  the  great  object  oi  theorifts, 
not  to  fupercede,  but  to  facilitate  the  fludy. 

There  is  indeed  good  reafon  for  believing,  that 
many   of  the  facts  which  our    confcioufnefs   would 
lead  us  to  confider,  upon  a  fuperficial  view,  as  ulti- 
mate fads  are  refolvable  into   other  principles  ftill 
more  general.      ''  Long  before    we  are   capable  of 
"  reflection,**  (fays   Dr.  Reid)    "  the    original  per- 
"  ceptions  and   notions  of  the   mind  are  fo  mixed, 
"  compounded  and  decompounded,  by  habits,  affo^ 
*'  ciations,   and  abftractions,   that   it  is  extremely 
"  difKcult   for  the  mind  to   return  upon  its   own 
*'  footfteps,  and    trace  back  thofe  operations  which 
"  have  employed  it  fince   it   firft  began  to    think 
"  and  to  a6t."     The  fame  author    remarks,   that, 
"  if  we  could  obtain   a  diftinct    and   full   hiftory 
"  of  all  that  hath  pafTed  in  the  mind  of  a  child,  from 
*'  the  begmning  of  life  and  fenfation,  till  it  grows  up 
"  to  the  ufe  of  reafon  ;  how  its  irifant  faculties  be- 
**  gan  to  work,  and  how  they  brought  forth  and 
"  ripened  all  the  various  notions,  opinions,  and  fenti- 
*'  mcnts,  which  we  find  in  ourf elves  when  we  come  to 
*'  be  capable  of  reflection  j  this  would  be  a  treafure  of 


552  ELEMENTS  OF  TM£  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Natural  Hiftory,  which  would  probably  give  mote 
"  light  into  the  human  faculties,  than  all  the  fyftems 
*^  oi  philofophers  about  thetn,  fince  the  beginning  of 
•*  the  world.*'  To  accomplifli  an  analyfis  of  thefe 
complicated  phenomena  into  the  fimple  and  original 
principles  of  our  conftitution,  is  the  great  objedt  of 
this  branch  of  philofophy  ;  but,  in  order  to  fucceed, 
it  is  neceflkry  to  afcertain  facls  before  we  begin  to 
reafon.  and  to  avoid  generalizing,  in  any  inftance, 
till  we  have  completely  fecured  the  ground  that  we 
have  gained.  Such  a  caution,  which  is  neceflary  in 
all  the  iciences,  is,  in  a  more  peculiar  manner,  necef- 
fary  here,  where  the  very  facts  from  which  all 
our  inferences  m.ufl:  be  drawn,  are  to  be  afcertain- 
ed  only  by  the  moll  patient  attention  ;  and,  where 
almoil:  all  of  them  are,  to  a  great  degree,  difguifed  : 
partly  by  the  inaccuracies  of  popular  language,  and 
partly  by  the  miftaken  theories  of  philofophers. 

I  have  only  to  add,  that,  although  I  have  retained 
the  phrafe  of  the  Aflbciation  of  Ideas,  in  compliance 
with  common  language,  I  am  far  from  being  com- 
pletely fatisfied  with  this  mode  of  exprellion.  I  have 
retained  it,  chiefly  that  I  might  not  expofe  myfelf 
to  the  cenfure  of  delivering  old  dodrines  in  a  new- 
form. 

As  I  have  endeavored  to  employ  it  with  caution, 
I  hope  that  it  has  not  often  mifled  me  in  my  reafon- 
ings.  At  the  fame  time,  I  am  more  and  more  con- 
vinced of  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  a  re- 
formation of  the  common  language,  in  moft  of  the 
branches  of  fcience.  How  much  fuch  a  reforma- 
tion has  effected  in  Chemiftry  is  well  known  ;  and  it 
is  evidently  much  more  neceifary  in  the  Philofophy 
of  Mind,  where  the  prevailing  language  adds  to  the 
common  inaccuracies  of  popular  expreilions,  the  pe- 
culiar difad vantage  of  being  all  fuggefted  by  the  a- 
nalogy  of  matter.     Often,  in  the  compofition  of  this 


OP  THE  PIUMAN  MIND.  ^oH 

work,  have  I  recollecled  the  advice  of  Bergman  to 
Morveaui*  '^  In  reforming  the  nomenclature  of 
"  chemiftry,  fpare  no  word  which  is  improper. 
"  They  who  underftand  the  fubjecl  already,  will  iuf- 
"  fer  no  inconvenience  ;  and  they  to  whom  the  fub- 
"  yi^ck  is  new,  will  comprehend  it  with  the  greater 
"  facility."  But  it  belongs  to  fuch  authors  alone, 
as  have  extended  the  boundaries  of  fcience  by  their 
own  difcoveries,  to  introduce  innovations  in  lan- 
guage with  any  hopes  of  fuccefs. 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

OF  MEMORY. 
SF£TION  I. 

General  Obfervations  on  Memory,. 

AMONG  the  various  powers  of  the  underftand- 
ing  there  is  none  which  has  been  fo  attentively  ex- 
amined by  philofophers,  or  concerning  which  Id  ma- 
ny important  fads  and  obfervations  have  been  col- 
lected, as  the  faculty  of  Memory.  This  is  partly  to 
be  afcribed  to  its  nature,  which  renders  it  eafily  dif- 
tinguifhable  from  all  the  other  principles  of  our  con- 
llitution,  even  by  thofe  who  have  not  been  accui- 
tomed  to  metaphyfical  invefligations,  and  partly  to 

*  '*  Lesavam  Prof^sseur  crUpsal,  M.  Bergman,  ccrivoit 
"^  a  iVl.  de  Morveau  dans  les  derniers  teinj^s  dc  sa  vie,  ne 
"  laites  graces  a  aucune  denoii)inaiion  impropre.  Ctux 
"  qui  savent  deja  entendiont  toujours  ;  ceux  qui  ne  savenc 
"  pas  encore  tntendronl  plutoi."  Mediode  de  Noinei.clat. 
Chemiqae,par  MM.  Morveau,  Lavoisier,  &c. 
Ww 


354}  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

its  immediate  fubferviency,  not  only  to  the  purfuits 
of  fcience,  but  to  the  ordinary  bulinefs  of  life ;  in 
confequence  of  which,  many  of  its  moft  curious  laws 
had  been  obferved,  long  before  any  analyfis  was  at. 
tempted  of  the  other  powers  of  the  mind  ;  and  have 
for  many  ages,  formed  a  part  of  the  common  max- 
ims which  'Afe  to  be  found  in  every  treatife  of  edu- 
cation. Some  important  remarks  on  the  fubjecf, 
may,  in  particular,  be  collected  from  the  writings  of 
the  ancient  rhetoriciaas. 

The  word  Memory  is  not  employed  uniformly  in 
the  fame  precife  ferife ;  but  it  always  expreifes  fome 
modification  of  that  faculty,  which  enables  us  to 
treafure  up,  and  preferve  for  future  ufe,  the  knowl- 
edge we  acquire  ;  a  faculty  which  is  obvioufly  the 
great  foundation  of  ail  intellectual  improvement,  and 
without  which,  no  advantai^e  could  be  derived  from 
the  moft  enlarged  experience.  This  faculty  implies 
two  things  :  a  capacity  of  retaining  knowledge  ^ 
and  a  power  of  recalling  it  to  our  thoughts  when 
we  have  occafion  to  apply  it  to  ufe.  The  word 
Memory  isfometimes  employed  to  exprefs  the  capa- 
city, and  fometimes  the  power.  When  we  fpeak  of 
a  retentive  memory,  we  ufe  It  in  the  former  fenfe  ; 
Yv^hen,  of  a  ready  memory,  in  the  latter. 

The  various  particulars  which  compofe  our  ftock 
of  knowledge  arc,  from  time  to  time,  recalled  to  our 
thoughts,  in  one  of  two  ways  ;^  ibfnetimes  they  re- 
cur lo  us  fpontaneoufly,  or  at  lead,  without  any  in- 
terference on  our  part ;  in  other  cafes,  they  are  re- 
called, in  confequence  of  an  effort  of  our  will.  For 
the  former  operation  of  the  mind,  we  have  no  ap- 
propriated name  in  our  language,  diflincl  from  Mem- 
ory. The  latter,  too,  is  often  called  by  the  fame 
name,  but  is  more  properly  diflinguillied  by  the 
word  Recolle6lion, 

There  are,  I  believe,  fome  other  acceptations  be- 
fides  thefe,  in  which  the  w^ord  Memory  has  been  oc- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  KflND.  353 

cafionally  employed  ;  but  as  its  ambiguities  are  not  of 
Aich  a  nature  as  to  iniflead  us  in  our  prefent  inquiries, 
I  ihall  not  dwell  any  longer  on  the  illuftration  of  dif- 
tindions,  which  to  the  greater  part  of  readers  niighc 
appear  uninterefting  and  minute.  One  diftinclion 
only,  relative  to  this  fubject,  occurs  to  me,  as  defer- 
ving  particular  attention. 

The  operations  of  Memory  relate  either  to  things 
and  their  relations,  or  to  events.  In  the  former  cafe, 
thoughts  which  have  been  previoufly  in  the  mind, 
may  recur  to  us,  without  fuggefting  the  idea  of  the 
paft,  or  of  any  modification  of  time  whatever  ;  as 
when  I  repeat  over  a  poem  which  I  have  got  by  heart 
or  when  1  think  of  the  features  of  an  abfent  friend. 
In  this  laft  inftance,  indeed,  philofophers  diftinguilh 
the  a£l  of  the  mind  by  the  name  of  Conception  ; 
but  in  ordinary  difcourfe,  and  frequently  even  in 
philofophical  writing,  it  is  conlidered  as  an  exertion 
of  Memory.  In  thefe  and  fimilar  cafes,  it  is  obvi- 
ous that  the  operations  of  this  faculty  do  not  necef- 
farily  involve  the  idea  of  the  paft. 

The  cafe  is  different  with  refpecl  to  the  memory 
of  events.  When  I  think  of  thefe,  I  not  only  recal 
to  the  mind  the  former  (U:)iecls  of  its  thoughts,  but 
I  refer  the  event  to  a  particular  point  of  time  ;  fo 
that  of  every  fuch  a<fl  of  memory,  the  idea  of  the 
paft  is  a  neceffary  concomitant. 

I  have  been  led  to  take  notice  of  this  diuin(5lion, 
in  order  to  obviate  an  objection  which  fome  of  the 
phenomena  of  Memory  leem  to  prefent,  againft  a 
dodlrine  which  I  formerly  ftated,  when  treating  of 
the  powers  of  Conception  and  Imagination. 

It  is  evident,  that  when  1  think  of  an  event,  in 
which  any  object  of  fenfe  was  concerned,  my  recol- 
ledlion  of  the  event  muft  neceffarily  involve  an  act 
of  Conception.  Thus,  when  I  think  of  a  dramatic 
reprefentation  which  1  have  recently  feen,  my  recol- 
ledion  of  what  I  faw,  jjieceflarily  involves  a  concep- 


356  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHlLOaOPHY 

tion  of  the  different  aclors  by  whom  it  was  performt? 
ed.  But  every  acl  of  recolleclion  which  relates  tq 
events,  is  accoinpanied  with  a  belief  of  their  paft  ex- 
igence. How  tiien  are  we  to  reconcile  this  conclur 
fion  with  the  doctrine  formerly  maintained  concern- 
ing Conception,  according  to  which  every  exertion 
of  that  power  is  accompanied  with  a  belief,  that  its 
objecl:  exifts  before  us  at  the  prefent  moment  ? 

The  only  way  that  occurs  to  me  of  removing  this. 
diilicuky,  is  by  fuppoling,  that  the  remembrance  of 
a  paft  event,  is  not  a  limple  ad  of  the  mind  :  but 
that  the  mind  firft  forms  a  conception  of  the  event, 
and  then  judges  from  circumftances,  of  the  period  of 
time  to  which  it  is  to  be  referred  :  a  fuppofition 
which  is  by  no  means  a  gratuitous  one,  invented  to 
anfwer  a  particular  purpofe  ;  but  which,  as  far  as  I 
am  able  to  judge,  is  agreeable  to  facl :  for  if  we  have 
the  power,  as  will  not  be  difputed,  of  conceiving  a 
paft  event  without  any  reference  to  time,  it  follows, 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  ideas  or  notions  which 
memory  prefents  to  us,  which  is  neceffarily  acco  mpa- 
nied  with  a  belief  of  paft  exiftence,  in  a  way  analo- 
gous to  that  in  which  our  perceptions  are  accompa- 
nied with  a  belief  of  the  prefent  exiftence  of  tlieir 
objects  ;  and  therefore,  tliat  the  reference  of  the  e- 
vent  to  the  particular  period  at  which  it  happened, 
is  a  judgment  founded  on  concr)mitant  circumftan- 
ces. So  long  as  we  are  occupied  with  the  concep- 
tion of  any  particular  objed:  connected  with  the  e- 
vent,  we  believe  the  prefent  exiftence  of  the  objecl ; 
but  this  belief,  which  in  moft  cafes,  is  only  momen- 
tary, is  inftantly  corrected  by  habiis  of  judging  ac- 
quired by  experience  ;  and  as  foon  as  the  mind  is 
difengaged  from  inch  a  belief,  it  is  left  at  liberty  to 
refer  the  event  to  the  period  at  which  it  actually 
happened.  Nor  will  the  apparent  inftantaneGulnels 
of  fuch  judgments  be  confidered  as  an  unfurmounta- 
ble  obierlion  to   the    doctrine    now  advanced,   bv 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  357 

thofe  who  have  reflected  on  the  perception  of  dift- 
ance  obtained  by  fight,  which,  although  it  feems  to 
be  as  immediate  as  any  perception  of  tcmch,  has  oeen 
fhewn  by  philofophers  to  be  the  refult  of  a  judgment 
founded  on  experience  and  obfervation.  The  re- 
ference we  make  of  paft  events  to  the  particular 
points  of  time  at  which  they  took  place,  will,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  the  more  we  confider  the  fubjeck, 
be  found  the  more  ftrikingly  analogous  to  the  efti- 
mates  of  di fiance  we  learn  to  form  by  the  eye. 

Although,  however,  I  am,  myfelf,  fatisfied  with 
the  conclulion  to  which  the  foregoing  reafonings  lead, 
I  am  far  from  expecting  that  the  cafe  will  be  the  fame 
with  all  my  readers.  Some  of  their  objections, 
which  I  can  eafily  anticipate,  might,  I  believe,  be  ob- 
viated by  a  little  farther  difcuilion  ;  but  as  the  quef- 
tion  is  merely  a  matter  of  curiofity,  and  has  no  ne- 
ceffary  connection  with  the  oblervations  I  am  to 
make  in  this  Chapter,  I  (hall  not  profecute  the  fub- 
jecl  at  prefent.  The  opinion,  indeed,  we  furm  con- 
cerning  it,  has  no  reference  to  any  of  the  dodlrines 
maintained  in  this  work,  excepting  to  a  particular 
fpeculation  concerning  the  belief  accompanying  con- 
ception, which  I  ventured  to  ftate,  in  treating  of 
that  fubje6l,  and  which,  as  it  appears  to  be  extreme- 
ly doubtful  to  fome  whofe  opinions  I  reiped:,  I  pro- 
pofed  with  a  degree  of  diffidence  fuitable  to  the  dif- 
faculty  of  fuch  an  enquiry.  The  remaining  obferva-* 
tions  which  I  am  to  make  on  the  power  of  memory, 
whatever  opinion  may  be  formed  ©f  their  impor- 
tance, will  furniih  but  little  room  for  a  diverlity  of 
judgment  concerning  their  truth. 

In  confidering  this  part  of  our  conftitution,  one  of 
the  mod  obvious  and  ilriking  queftions  that  occurs, 
is,  what  the  circumilances  are  which  determine  the 
memory  to  retain  fome  things  in  preference  to  oth- 
ers ?  Among  the  fubjecls  which  fucceflively  occupy 
pur  thoughts,  by  far  the  greater  number  vaniih^ 


58  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

without  leaving  a  trace  behind  them  ;  while  others 
become,  as  it  were,  a  part  of  ourfelves,  and,  by  their 
accumulations,  lay  a  foundation  for  our  perpetual 
progrefs  in  knowledge.  Without  pretending  to  ex- 
liauft  thefubject,  I  (hall  content  myfelf  at  prefent  with 
a  partial  folution  of  this  difficulty,  by  illuftrating  the 
dependence  of  memory  upon  two  principles  of  our 
nature,  with  which  it  is  plainly  very  intimately  con* 
necled  ;  attention,  and  the  affociation  of  ideas. 

I  endeavored  in  a  former  chapter  to  {hew,  that 
there  is  a  certain  ad  of  the  mind,  ^diftinguifhed, 
both  by  philofophers  and  the  vulgar,  by  the  name  of 
attention,)  without  which  even  the  olDJeds  of  our 
perceptions  make  no  impreilion  on  the  memory.  It 
is  alfo  matter  of  common  remark,  that  the  perma- 
nence of  the  impreffion  which  any  thing  leaves  in 
the  memory,  is  proportioned  to  the  degree  of  atten- 
tion which  was  originally  given  to  it.  The  obfer- 
vation  has  been  fo  often  repeated,  and  is  fo  manifeft- 
ly  true,  that  it  is  unneceffary  to  offer  any  illuftration 
of  it.* 

I  have  only  to  obferve  farther,  with  refped  to  at- 
tention, confidered  in  the  relation  in  which  itftands 
to  memory,  that  although  it  be  a  voluntary  ad,  it 
requires  experience  to  have  it  always  under  com- 

*  It  seems  to  b?  owing  to  this  dependence  of  memory  on  atten- 
tion, that  it  is  easier  to  get  by  heart  a  composition,  after  a  very 
few  readings,  with  an  attempt  to  repeat  it  at  the  end  of  each,  than 
after  a  hundred  readings  without  such  an  effort.  The  effort  rouses 
the  attention  from  that  languid  state  in  which  it  remains,  while 
the  mind  is  giving  a  passive  reception  to  foreign  ideas.  The  fact 
is  remarked  by  lord  Bacon,  and  is  explained  by  him  on  the  same 
principle  to  whioh  I  have  referred  it. 

"  ^ufe  expectantur  et  attentionem  excitant,  rnelius  haerent  qnam 
"quie  prtetervolant.  Itaque  si  scriptum  aliqiiod  vicies  perlegeris, 
*'  non  tarn  facile  illud  memoriter  disces,  quaru  si  illiid  legas  decies, 
«  tentando  interim  illud  recitare,  et  ubi  deficit  memoria,  inspiciend© 


"  librum." 


Bacon,  Nov,  Org.  lib.  ii.  aph.  26. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S59 

mand.  In  the  cafe  of  objeds  to  which  we  have  been 
taught  to  attend  at  an  early  period  of  life,  or  which 
are  calculated  to  roufe  the  curiofity,  or  to  affect  any 
of  our  paflions,  the  attention  fixes  itfelf  upon  them, 
as  it  were  fpontaneoully,  and  without  any  effcirt  on 
our  part,  of  which  we  are  confcious  How  perfect- 
ly do  we  remember,  and  even  retain, for  a  long  courfe 
of  years,  the  faces  and  the  hand- writings  of  our  ac- 
quaintances, although  we  never  took  any  particular 
pains  to  fix  them  in  the  memory  ?  On  the  other  hand, 
if  an  ©bjed  does  not  intercll  fome  principle  of  our  na- 
ture,  we  may  examine  it  again  and  again,  with  a  wifh 
to  treafure  up  the  knowledge  of  it  in  the  mind, 
without  our  being  able  to  command  that  degree  of 
attention  which  may  lead  us  to  recognize  it  the  next 
time  we  fee  it.  A  perfon,  for  example,  who  has  not 
been  accuftomed  to  attend  particularly  to  horfes  or 
to  cattle,  may  ftudy  for  a  confiderable  time  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  horfe  or  of  a  bullock,  without  being 
able  a  few  days  afterwards  to  pronounce  on  his 
identity  ;  while  a  horfe-dealer  or  a  grazier  recolleds 
many  hundreds  of  that  clafs  of  animals  with  which 
he  is  converfant,  as  perfectly  as  he  does  the  faces  of 
his  acquaintances.  Jn  order  to  account  for  this,  I 
would  remark,  that  although  attention  be  a  volun- 
tary ad,  and  although  we  are  always  able,  when  we 
choofe,  to  make  a  momentary  exertion  of  it  ;  yet, 
unlefs  the  object^p  which  it  is  derected  be  really  in- 
terefting,  in  fome  degree,  to  the  curiofity,  the  train 
of  our  ideas  goes  on,  and  we  immediately  forget  our 
purpofe.  When  we  are  employed,  theretorc,  in 
Itudying  fuch  an  objedt,  it  is  not  an  exclulive  and 
fteady  attention  that  we  give  to  it,  but  we  are  lofing 
fight  of  it,  and  recurring  to  it  every  initant  ;  and 
the  painful  efforts  of  which  we  are  confcious,  are 
not  (as  we  are  apt  to  fuppofe  them  to  be)  eflbrts  of 
uncommon  attention,  but  unfuccefsful  attempts  to 
keep  the  mind  fleady  to  its  object,  and  to  exclude 


S60  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHlLb^OPHf 

the  extraneous  ideas,  which  are  from  time  to  tim6 
foliciting  its  notice. 

If  theie  obfervations  be  well  founded,  they  afford 
an  explanation  of  a  facl  which  has  been  often  re- 
marked, that  objects  are  eafily  renaembered  which 
afFecl  any  of  the  paflions.*  The  pallion  allifts  the 
memory,  not  in  confequence  of  any  immediate  con- 
nection between  them,  but  as  it  prefents,  during  thd 
time  it  continues,  a  fteady  and  exclufive  object  to  the 
attention.  ^ 

The  connediion  between  memory  and  the  afibcia- 
tion  of  ideas,  is  fo  ftriking,  that  it  has  been  fuppofed 
by  fome,  that  the  whole  of  its  phenomena  might  be 
refolved  into  this  principle.  But  this  is  evidently 
not  the  cafe.  The  afibciation  of  ideas  connects  our 
various  thoughts  with  each  other,  fo  as  to  prefent 
them  to  the  mind  in  a  certain  order ;  but  it  prefup- 
pofes  the  exiitence  of  thefe  thoughts  in  the  mind ; 
or,  in  other  words,  it  prefuppofes  a  faculty  of  retain- 
ing the  knowledge  which  we  acquire.  It  involves 
alio  a  power  of  recognizing,  as  former  objects  of  at- 
tention, the  thoughts  that  from  time  to  time  occur 
to  us  ;  a  power  which  is  not  implied  in  that  law  of 
our  nature  vv^hich  is  called  the  affociation  of  ideas; 
It  is  pofiible,  furely,  that  our  thoughts  might  have 
fucceeded  each  other,  according  to  the  fame  laws  as 
at  prefent,  without  fuggefling  to  us  at  all  the  idea  of 
the  paft  ;  and,  in  fad:,  this  i'uppoi^on  is  realifed  to 
a  certain  degree  in  the  cafe  of  fome  old  men,  who 
retain  pretty  exactly  the  information  which  they  re- 
ceive, but  are  fometimes  unable  to  recollect  in  what 
manner  the  particulars  which  they  find  connected 


*  "  Si  quas  res  in  vita  videmus  parvas,  usi'atas,  quotidiai.as,  ea2 
"  meminisse  non  solemus  ;  propterca  quod  nulla  nisi  nova  aut  ad- 
*••  mirabiii  re  commovetur  animus.     At  si  quid  videmus  aut  au(^ 
**  mus  egregie  turpe,  aut  honestum,  inusitatum,  magnum,  incr 
•'  bile,  ridiculum,  id  diu  meiiiinisse  consuevimus." 

Jd  Herenn.  lib,  S 


ad^ 

1 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  SG\ 

together  in  their  thoughts,  at  firft  came  into  the 
mind  ;  whether  they  occurred  to  them  in  a  dream, 
or  were  communicated  to  them  in  converfation. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evedent,  that  without  the 
affociating  principle,  the  powers  of  retaining  our 
thoughts,  and  of  recognizing  them  when  they  ocur 
to  us,  would  have  been  of  Uttle  ufe ;  for  the  mofb 
important  articles  of  our  knowledge  might  have  re- 
mained latent  in  the  mind,  even  when  thcfe  occa- 
fions  prefented  themfelves  to  which  they  are  imme- 
diately applicable.  In  confequence  of  this  law  of 
our  nature,  not  only  are  all  our  various  ideas  made 
to  pafs,  from  time  to  time,  in  review  before  us,  and 
to  offer  themfelves  to  our  choice  as  fubje6ts  of  medi- 
tation, but  when  an  occafion  occurs  which  cads  for 
the  aid  of  our  paft  experience,  the  occafion  itfelf  re- 
cals  to  us  all  the  information  upon  the  fubjedl  which 
that  experiehce  has  accumulated. 

The  foregoing  obfervations  comprehend  an  analy- 
fis  of  memory  fufficiently  accurate  for  my  prefent 
purpofe  :  fome  other  remarks,  tending  to  illuftrate 
the  fame  fubjed  more  completely,  will  occur  in  the 
remaining  fedions  of  this  chapter. 

It  is  hardly  necelTary  for  me  to  add,  that  when  we 
have  proceeded  fo  far  in  our  inquiries  concc  rning 
Memory,  as  to  obtain  an  analyfis  of  that  power,  and 
to  afcertain  the  relation  in  which  it  (lands  to  the 
other  principles  of  our  conftitution,  we  have  advan- 
ced as  far  towards  an  explanation  of  it  as  the  nature 
of  the  fubject  permits.  The  various  theories  which 
have  attempted  to  account  for  it  by  traces  or  im- 
preflions  in  the  fenforium,  are  obvioufly  too  unphi- 
lofophical  to  deferve  a  particular  refutation.*  Such, , 
indeed,  is  the  poverty  of  language,  that  we  cannot 
fpealv  on  the  fubjedl  without  employing  expreflions 

*  See  Note  [S.] 

Xx 


362  ELEIvlENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

which  fugged  one  theory  or  another  ;    but  it  is  of 
importance  for  us  always  to  recoiled,  that  thefe  ex- 
preffions  are  entirely  figurative,  and  afford  no  ex- 
planation of  the  phenomena  to  which  they  refer. 
It  is  partly  with  a  view  to  remind  my  readers  of  this 
confideration,   that,    finding    it    impoflibie    to    lay 
afide  completely  metaphorical  or  analogical  words,  I 
have  ftudied  to  avoid  fuch  an  uniformity  in  the  em- 
ployment of  them,  as  might  indicate  a  preference  to 
one  theory  rather  than  another  ;    and  by  doing  fo, 
have  perhaps  fometimes  been  led  to  vary  the  meta- 
phor oftener  and  more  fuddenly,  than  would  be 
proper  in  a  compofition  which  aimed  at  any  degree 
of  elegance.     This  caution  in  the  ufe  of  the  common 
language  concerning  memory,  it  feemed  to  me  the 
more  neceffary  to  attend  to,  that  the  general  difpo- 
lition  which  every  perfon  feels  at  the  commencement 
of  his  philofophical  purfuits,  to  explain  fhe  phenom- 
ena of  thought  by  the  laws  of  matter,  is,  in  the  cafe 
of  this  particular  faculty,  encouraged  by  a  variety  of 
peculiar  circumftances.     The  analogy  between  com- 
mitting a  thing  to  memory  that  we  wifli  to  remem- 
ber, and  engraving  on  a  tablet  a  facl  that  we  wafli  to 
record,  is  fo  tlr iking  as  to  prefent  itfelf  even  to  the 
vulgar  ;  nor  is  it  perhaps  lefs  natural  to  indulge  the 
fancy  in  confidering  memory  as  a  fort  of  repofitory, 
in  which  we  arrange  and  preferve  for  future  ufe  the 
materials  of  our  information.     The  immediate  de- 
pendence, too,  of  this  faculty  on   the  ftate  of  the 
body,  which  is  more  remarkable  than  that  of  any 
other  faculty  whatever,  (as  appears  from  the  effeds 
produced  on  it  by  old  age,  difeafe,  and  intoxication,) 
is  apt  to  ftrike  thofe  who  have  not  been  much  con- 
versant with  thefe  inquiries,  as  beftuwing  fbme  piaii- 
fibility  on  the  theory  which  attempts  to  explain  its 
phenomena  on  mechanical  principles. 

I  cannot  help  taking  this  opportunity  of  expreff- 
ing  a  wifii,    that    medical  writers   would    be    at 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  363 

more  pains  than  they  have  been  at  hitherto,   to 
aicertain   the  various   effects  which  are   produced 
on   the  memory  by  difeafe  and  old  age.      Thefe 
effects  are   widely  diverfified  in  different  cafes.     In 
fome  it  would  feem  that  the  memory  is  impaired,  in 
confequence  of  a  diminution  of  the  power  of  atten- 
tion ;  in  others,  that  the  power  of  recollection  is  dis- 
turbed,  in  confequence  of  a  derangement  of  that  part 
of  the  conftitution  on  which  the  affociation  of  ideas 
depends.     The  decay  of  memory,  which  is  the  com- 
mon effect  of  age,feems  to  arife  from  the  former  of 
thefe  caufes.     It  is  probable,  that,  as  we  advance  in 
years,  the  capacity  of  attention  is  weakened  by  fome 
phylical  change  in  the  conftitution  ;    but   it  is  alfo 
reafonable  to  think,  that  it  lofes  its  vigor  partly  from 
the  effect  which  the  decay  of  our  fenfibility,   and 
the  extinction  of  our  pafllons,  have,  in  diminifhing 
the  intereft  which  we  feel  in  the  common  occurren- 
ces of  life.     That  no  derangement  takes  place,  in 
ordinary  cafes,  in  thai  part  of  the  conftitution  on 
which  the  affociation  of  ideas  depenc's,  appears  from 
the  diftind  and  circumftantial  recollection  which  old 
men  retain  of  the  tranfactions  of  their  youth.*     In 
fome  difeafes,  this  part  of  the  conftitution  is  evident- 
ly affedted.     A  ftroke  of  the  palfy  has  been  known^ 
(while  it  did  not  deftroy  the  power  of  fpeech,)  to 
render  the  patient  incapable  of  recollecting  the  names 

*  Swift  somewhere  expresses  his  surprise,  that  old  men  should 
lemeinber  their  anecdotes  so  distinctly,  and  should,  notwithstand- 
ing, have  so  little  memory  as  to  tell  the  ssme  story  twice  in  the 
course  of  the  same  conversation  ;  and  u  similar  remark  is  made  by 
Montaigne,  in  one  of  his  Essays  :  "  Surtout  les  Vieillards  sont 
*'  dangereux,  ii  qui  la  souvenance  des  choses  pass^'es  demeure,  et 
**  ont  perdu  la  souvenance  de  Icurs  redites." 

Liv.  i.  ehap.  ix.  (Des  Menteurs.) 

The  fact  seems  to  be,  that  all  their  old  Ideas  remain  in  the  mind, 
connected  as  formerly  by  the  difierent  associating  principles  ;  but 
that  the  power  of  attention  to  nev/  ideas  ?indnew  occurrences  is 
impaired. 


364  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

of  the  moll  familiar  objects.  What  is  ftill  more  re- 
markable, the  name  of  an  objed  has  been  known  to 
fuggeft  the  idea  of4t  as  formeriy,  although  the  fight 
of  the  object  ceafed  to  fuggeft  the  name. 

In  fo  far  as  this  decay  of  memory  which  old  age 
brings  along  with  it,  is  a  neceffary  confequence  of  a 
phyfical  changein  the  conftitution,  or  a  neceffary  con- 
fequence of  a  diminution  of  fenfibility,  it  is  the  part 
of  a  wife  man  to  fubmit  cheerfully  to  the  lot  of  his 
nature.  But  it  is  not  unreafonable  to  think,  that 
fomething  may  be  done  by  our  own  efforts,  to  ob- 
viate the  inconveniences  which  commonly  refult 
from  it.  If  individuals,  who,  in  the  early  part  of 
life,  have  weak  memories,  are  fometimes  able  to 
remedy  this  defed,  by  a  greater  attention  to  arrange- 
ment in  their  tranfa<^ions,  and  to  clallification  among 
their  ideas,  than  is  neceffary  to  the  bulk  of  mankind, 
might  it  not  be  poflible,  in  the  fame  way,  to  ward 
off,  at  leaft  to  a  certain  degree,  the  encroachnients 
which  time  makes  on  this  faculty  ?  The  few  old  men 
who  continue  in  the  active  fcenes  of  life  to  the  laft 
moment,  it  has  been  often  remarked,  complain,  in 
general,  much  lefs  of  a  want  of  recolledlion,  than 
their  cotemporaries.  This  is  undoubtedly  owing 
partly  to  the  effed  which  the  purfuits  of  bufmeis 
muft  neceffarily  have,  in  keeping  alive  the  power  of 
attention.  But  it  is  probably  owing  alfo  to  new 
Iiabits  of  arrangement,  which  the  mind  gradually 
and  infenfibly  forms,  from  the  experience  of  its 
growing  infirmities.  The  apparent  revival  of  mem- 
ory in  old  men,  after  a  temporary  decline,  (which  is 
a  cafe  that  happens  not  unfrequently,)  feems  to  favor 
this  fuppofition. 

One  old  man,  I  have,  myfelf,  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  know,  whcs  after  a  long,  an  active,  and  an 
honorable  life,  having  begun  to  feel  fome  of  the  ufu- 
al  effed:s  of  advanced  years,  has  been  able  to  find  re- 
fources  in  his  own  fagacity,  againft  moft  of  the  in- 


Of  TH£  HUMAN  MIND.  365 

conveniences  with  which  they  are  commonly  atten- 
ded ;  and  who,  by  watching  his  gradual  decline  with 
the  cool  eye  of  an  indifferent  obferver,  and  employ- 
ing his  ingenuity  to  retard  its  progrefs,  has  convert- 
ed even  the  infirmities  of  age  into  a  fouroe  of  philo- 
Ibphical  amufement. 


SECTION  II. 
Of  the  Varieties  of  Memory  in  different  Individuals, 

IT  is  generally  fuppofed,  that,  of  all  our  faculties. 
Memory  is  that  which  nature  has  bellowed  in  the 
moft  unequal  degrees  on  different  individuals  ;  and 
it  is  far  from  being  impodible  that  this  opinion  may 
be  well  founded.  If,  however,  we  confider,  that 
there  is  fcarcely  any  man  who  has  not  memory  fuf- 
licient  to  learn  the  ufe  of  language,  and  to  learn  to 
recognize,  at  the  iirft  glance,  the  appearances  of  an 
infinite  number  of  familiar  objeds  ;  befides  acquir- 
ing fuch  an  acquaintance  wuth  the  laws  of  nature, 
and  the  ordinary  courfe  of  human  affairs,  as  is  ne- 
ceffary  for  dire<Sing  his  conduct  in  life  ;  we  ftiall  be 
fatisfied  that  the  original  difparities  among  men,  in 
this  refpecl,  are  by  no  means  fo  immenfe  as  they 
i'eem  to  be  at  firfl  view  ;  and  that  much  is  to  be  as- 
cribed to  different  habits  of  attention,  and  to  a  dif- 
ference of  feledion  among  the  various  objeds  and 
events  prefented  to  their  curiofity. 

As  the  great  purpofe  to  which  this  faculty  is  fub- 
fervient,  is  to  enable  us  to  collect,  and  to  retain,  for 
the  future  regulation  of  our  conduct,  the  refults  of 
our  part  experience  ;  it  is  evident  that  the  de- 
gree of  perfection  which  it  attains  in  the  cafe 
of  difierent  perfons,  mud  vary  ;  firfl,  with  the 
fi^cility  of  making  the  original   acquifition  ;   fee- 


366  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ondly,  vv'ith  the  permaiaence  of  the  acquifition  ; 
and  thirdly,  with  the  quicknefs  or  readinefs  with 
which  the  individual  is  able,  on  particular  oc- 
caiions,  to  apply  it  to  ufe.  The  qualities,  therefore, 
of  a  good  memory  are,  in  the  firll  place,  to  be  fiif- 
ceptible  ;  fecondly,  to  be  retentive  ;  and  thirdly,  to 
be  ready. 

It  is  but  rarely  that  thefe  three  qualities  are  uni- 
ted in  the  lame  perfon.  We  often,  indeed,  meet 
with  a  memory  which  is  at  once  fufceptible  and 
ready  ;  bat  I  doubt  much,  if  fuch  memories  be  com- 
monly very  retentive  :  for,  fufceptibility  and  readi- 
nefs are  both  connected  with  a  facility  of  aflbciating 
ideas,  according  to  their  more  obviom  relations  ; 
whereas  retentivenefs,  or  tenacioufnefs  of  memory, 
depends  principally  on  what  is  feldom  united  with 
this  facility,  a  dilpofition  to  fyftem  and  to  philofoph- 
ical  arrangement.  Thefe  obfervations  it  will  be  ne- 
celTary  to  illuiirate  more  particularly. 

I  have  already  remarked,  in  treating  of  a  different 
fubject,  that  the  bulk  of  mankind,  being  but  little 
accuflomed  to  refled  and  to  generalize,  affociate  their 
ideas  chiefly  according  to  their  more  obvious  rela- 
tions ;  thofe,  for  example,  of  refemblance  and  of  a- 
nalogy  ;  and  above  all,  according  to  the  cafual  rela- 
tions ariling  from  contiguity  in  time  and  place  : 
whereas,  in  the  mind  of  a  philofopher,  ideas  are 
conmonly  aflbciated  according  to  thofe  relations 
wlrch  are  brought  to  Hght  in  confequencc  of  par- 
ticular efforts  of  attention  ;  fuch  as  the  relations  of 
Caufe  and  Efftd,  or  of  Premifes  and  Conclufion. 
This  diffl'rence  in  the  modes  of  alTociatidn  of  thefe 
two  claires  of  men,  is  the  foundation  of  fome  very 
llriking  diverfities  between  them  in  refped:  of  in- 
telieclual  character. 

In  the  firft  place,  in  confequence  of  the  nature  of 
the  relations  which  connedl  ideas  together  in  the 
mind  of  the  philofopher,  it  mull  neceffarily  happen. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  S6t 

tliat  when  he  has  occafion  to  apply  to  ufe  his  ac- 
quired knowledge,    time  and  refledlion  will  be  re- 
quifite   to  enable  him  to  recoiled  it.    In  the  cafe  of 
thofe',  on  the  other  hand,  who  have  not  been   accuf* 
tomed  to  fcientlfic  purfuits  ;   as  their  ideas  are  con- 
nected together  according  to  the  moft  obvious  rela- 
tions ;  when  any  one  idea  of  a  clafs  is  prefented  to 
the  mind,  it  is  immediately  followed  by  the  others, 
which   fucceed  each  other  fpontaneoully  according 
to  the  laws  of  alTociation.     In  managing,  therefore, 
the  little  details  of  fome  fubaltern  employment,  in 
which  all  that  is  acquired,  is  a  knowledge  of  forms, 
and  a  difpolition  to  obferve  them,  the  want  of  a  fyf- 
tematical  genius  is  an  important  advantage  ;  becaufe 
this  \V2.ut  renders  the  mind  peculiarly  lufceptible  of 
habits,  and  allows  the  train  of  its  ideas  to  accommo- 
date itfelf  perfe(5lly  to  the  daily  and  hourly  occur- 
rences of  its  lituation.     But  if,  in  this  refpecl,  men 
of   no  general  principles  have  an  advantage  over  the 
philofopher,  they  fall  greatly  below  him  in  another 
point  of  view ;    inafmuch   as   all   the  information 
which  they  poiTels,  mufl  neceflarily  be  limited  by 
their  own  proper  experience  ;  whereas  the  philofo- 
pher, who  is  accuftomed  to  refer  every  thing  to  gen- 
eral principles,  is  not  only  enabled,  by  means  of  thefe, 
to   arrange  the  fads  which  experience  has  taught 
him,  but  by  reafoning  from  his  principles  fynthetic- 
ally,  has  it  often  in  his  power  to  determine  fads  ts 
priori,  which  he  has  no  opportunity  of  afcertaining 
by  obfervation. 

It  follows  farther,  from  the  foregoing  principles, 
that  the  intellectual  defects  of  the  philofopher,  are 
of  a  much  more  corrigible  nature,  than  thofe  of  the 
mere  man  of  detail.  If  the  former  is  thrown  by  ac- 
cident into  a  fcene  of  bufmefs,  more  time  will  per- 
haps be  neceflfary  to  qualify  him  for  it,  than  would 
be  requifite  for  the  generality  of  mankind  ;  but  time 
and  experience  will  infallibly,  fooner  or  later,  ht- 


368  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

miliarife  his  mind  completely  with  his  fituation.  A 
capacity  for  lyftem  and  for  philofophical  arrange- 
ment, unlefs  it  has  been  carefully  cultivated  in  early 
life,  is  an  acquilition  which  can  fcarcely  ever  be 
made  afterwards  ;  and,  therefore,  the  defects  which 
I  already  mentioned,  as  conne(5led  with  early  and 
conftant  habits  of  bufinefs,  adopted  from  imitation, 
and  undirected  by  theory ;  may,  when  once  thefe 
habits  are  confirmed,  be  pronounced  to  be  incura- 
ble. 

I  am  alfo  inclined  to  believe,  both  from  a  theoret- 
ical view  of  the  fubjecl,  and  from  my  own  obferva- 
trons  as  far  as  they  have  reached,  that  if  we  wiih  to 
fix  the  particulars  of  our  knowledge  very  perma- 
nently in  the  memory,  the  moft  efFedual  way  of  do» 
ing  it,  is  to  refer  them  to  general  principles.  Ideas 
which  are  connected  together  merely  by  cafual  rela- 
tions, prefent  themfelves  with  readinefs  to  the  mind, 
fo  long  as  we  are  forced  by  the  habits  of  our  fitua- 
tion to  apply  them  daily  to  ufe  ;  but  when  a  change 
of  circumllances  leads  us  to  vary  the  objeds  of  our 
attention,  we  find  our  old  ideas  gradually  to  efcape 
from  the  recollection  :  and  if  it  (hould  happen  that 
they  efcape  from  it  altogether,  the  only  method  of 
recovering  them,  is  by  renewing  thofe  ftudies  by 
which  they  were  at  firlt  acquired.  The  cafe  is  very 
different  with  a  man  whofe  ideas,  prefented  to  him 
at  firtc  by  accident,  have  been  afterwards  philofoph- 
ically  arranged  and  referred  to  general  principles. 
When  he  wifhes  to  recollect  them,  fome  time  and 
reflection  will,  frequently,  be  neceffary  to  enable 
him  to  do  fo ;  but  the  information  which  he  has 
once  completely  acquired,  continues,  in  general,  to 
Jbe  an  acquifition  for  life  ;  or  if,  accidentally,  any  ar- 
ticle of  it  (hould  be  loft^  it  may  often  be  recovered 
by  1  procefs  of  reafoning. 

Something  very  fimilar  to  this  happens  in  the 
ftudy  of  languages.     A  perfon  who  acquires  a  for- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  360 

eign  language  merely  by  the  ear,  and  without  any 
knowledge  of  its  principles,  commonly  fpeaks 
it,  while  he  remains  in  the  country  where  it 
is  fpoken,  with  more  readinefs  and  fluency,  than 
one  who  has  ftudied  it  grammatically  ;  but  in  the 
courle  of  a  few  years  abfence,  he  finds  himfelf  aimofi: 
as  ignorant  of  it  as  before  he  acquired  it.  A  lan- 
guage of  which  we  once  underftand  the  principles 
thoroughly,  it  is  hardly  poflible  to  lofe  by  difufe. 

A  philofophical  arrangement  of  our  ides,  is  atten- 
ded with  another  very  important  advantage.  In  a 
mind  where  the  prevailing  principles  of  afTociaticn 
are  founded  on  cafual  relations  among  the  various 
objects  of  its  knowledge,  the  thoughts  muft  nccefla- 
rily  fucceed  each  other  in  a  very  irregular  and  dif- 
orderly  manner  ;  and  the  occalions  on  which  they 
prefent  themfelves,  will  be  determined  merely  by 
accident.  They  will  often  occur,  when  they  can- 
not be  employed  to  any  purpofe  ;  and  will  remain 
concealed  from  our  view,  when  the  recolledion  of 
them  might,  be  ufeful.  They  cannot  therefore  be 
conlidered  as  under  our  own  proper  command. 
But  in  the  cafe  of  a  philofopher,  how  flow  foever 
he  may  be  in  the  recollection  of  his  ideas,  he  knows 
always  where  he  is  to  fearch  for  them,  fo  as  to  bring 
them  all  to  bear  on  their  proper  objecl.  When  he 
wiflies  to  avail  himfelf  of  his  paft  experience,  or  of 
his  former  conclufions,  the  occafion,  itfelf,  fummons 
up  every  thought  in  his  mind  which  the  occafion  re- 
quires. Or  if  he  is  called  upon  to  exert  his  powers 
of  invention,  and  of  difcovery,  the  materials  of  both 
are  always  at  hand,  and  are  preliented  to  his  view 
with  fucli  a  degree  of  connection  and  arrangem/ent, 
as  may  enable  him  to  trace,  with  eafe,  their  varioXis 
relations.  How  much  invention  depends  upon  a  pa- 
tient and  attentive  examination  of  our  ideas,  in  order 
to  difcover  the  lefs  obvious  relations  which  fubfifl 

Y  Y 


STO  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

among  them,  I  had  occafion  to  fliovv,  at  fome  lengthy 
in  a  termer  Chapter. 

The  remarks  which  have  been  now  made,  are  fuf- 
ficient  to  illuftrate  the  advantages  which  the  philof- 
opher  derives  in  the  purfuits  of  fcience,  from  that 
fort  of  fyftematical  memory  which  his  habits  of  ar- 
rangement give  him.  It  may  however  be  doubted, 
whether  fuch  habits  be  equally  favorable  to  a  talent 
for  agreeable  converfation  ;  at  leail,  for  that  lively, 
varied,  and  unftudied  converfation,  which  forms  the 
principal  charm  of  a  promifcuous  fociety.  The  con- 
verfation which  pleafes  generally,  muft  unite  the 
recommendations  of  quicknefs,  of  eafe,  and  of  varie- 
ty :  and  in  all  thefe  three  refpecls,  that  of  the  phi- 
lofopher  is  apt  to  be  deficient.  It  is  deficient  in 
quicknefs,  becaufe  his  ideas  are  connected  by  rela- 
tions which  occur  only  to  an  attentive  and  collected 
mind.  It  is  deficient  in  eafe,  becaufe  thefe  relations 
are  not  the  cafual  and  obvious  ones,  by  which  ideas 
are  afibciated  in  ordinary  memories  ;  but  the  flow 
difcoveries  of  patient,  and  often  painful,  exertion. 
As  the  ideas,  too,  which  he  affociates  together,  are 
commonly  of  the  fame  clafs,  or  at  lead  are  referred 
to  the  fame  general  principles,  he  is  in  danger  of  be- 
coming tedious,  by  indulging  himfelf  in  long  and 
fyllematical  difcourfes  ;  while  another,  poffeikd  of 
the  mofl  inferior  accomplifiiments,  by  laying  his 
mind  completely  open  to  impreflions  from  without, 
and  by  accomm.odating  continually  the  courfe  of  his 
own  ideas,  not  only  to  the  ideas  which  are  ilarted 
by  his  companions,  but  to  every  trifling  and  unex- 
pected accident  that  may  occur  to  give  them  a  new 
direction,  is  the  life  and  foul  of  every  fociety  into 
which  he  enters.  Even  the  anecdotes  which  the 
philofopher  has  collecled,  however  agreeable  they 
may  be  in  themfeives,  are  feldom  introduced  by  him 
into  converfation,  with  that  unlludied  but  happy 
propriety,  which  we  admire  in  men  of  the  world,. 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  571 

whofe  fadls  are  not  referred  to  general  principles, 
but  are  fuggefted  to  their  recolledion  by  the  famil- 
iar topics  and  occurrences  of  ordinary  life.  Nor  is 
it  the  imputation  of  tedioufnefs  merely,  to  which 
the  fyftematical  thinker  muft  fubmit  from  common 
obfervers.  It  is  but  rarely  pofiible  to  explain  com- 
pletely, in  a  promifcuous  fociety,  all  the  various 
parts  of  the  moft  iimple  theory  ;  and  as  nothing  ap- 
pears "weaker  or  more  abfurd  than  a  theory  which  is 
partially  Hated,  it  frequently  happens,  that  men  of 
ingenuity,  by  attempting  it,  fink,  in  the  vulgar  ap- 
prehenfion,  below  the  level  of  ordinary  underftand- 
ings.  "  Theoriarum  vires"  (lays  Lord  Bacon)  "  in 
"  apta  et  fe  mutuo  fuftinente,  partium  harmonia  et 
"  quadam  in  orbem  demonftratione  confiftunt,  ide- 
"  oque  per  partes  traditae  infirmas  funt." 

Before  leaving  the  fubjed  of  Cafual  Memory,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  add,  that  how  much  foever 
it  may  difqualify  for  fyftematical  fpeculation,  there 
is  a  fpecies  of  loofe  and  rambling  compofition,  to 
which  it  is  peculiarly  favorable.  With  fuch  perfor- 
mances, it  is  often  pleafant  to  unbend  the  mind  in 
folitude,  when  we  are  more  in  the  humor  for  con- 
verfation,  than  for  connected  thinking.  Montaigne 
is  unqueftionably  at  the  head  of  this  clafs  of  authors. 
"  What,  indeed,  are  his  ElTays,"  (to  adopt  his  own 
account  of  them,)  "  but  grotefque  pieces  of  patch- 
"  work,  put  together  without  any  certain  figure  ;  or 
''  any  order,  connection,  or  proportion,  but  what  is 
"  accidental  ?"* 

It  is,  however,  curious,  that  in  confequence  of  the 
predominance  in  his  mind  of  this  fpecies  of  Memory 
above  every  other,  he  is  forced  to  acknowledge  his 
total  want  of  that  command  over  his  ideas,  which 
can  only  be  founded  on  habits  of  fyilcmatical  ar- 
rangement. As  the  paflage  is  extremely  charactcr- 
iftical  of  the  author,  and  affords  a  ffriking  confirma- 
*  Liv.  i.  chao.  27, 


^^2  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tlon  of  fome  of  the  preceding  obfervations,  I  fhali 
give  it  in  his  own  vvords.  "  Je  ne  me  tiens  pas  bien 
**  en  nia  poireilion  et  difpofition  :  le  hazard  y  a  plus 
**  de  droit  que  nnoy  :  Toccafion,  la  compagnie,  le 
*'  branle  meme  de  ma  voix  tire  plus  de  mon  eiprit, 
"  que  je  n'y  trouve  lors  que  je  forde  et  employe  a 
"  part  moy.  Ceci  nVadvient  auHi,  que  je  ne  me 
"  trouve  pafs  ou  je  me  cherche ;  et  me  trouve  plus 
"  par  rencontre,  que  par  Tinquifition  de  mon  juge- 
^«  ment."t 

The  differences  which  I  have  now  pointed  out  be- 
tween philofophical  and  cafual  Memory,  conftitute 
the  moft  remarkable  of  all  the  varieties  which  the 
minds  of  different  individuals,  confidered  in  refpe6t 
of  this  faculty,  prefent  to  our  obfervation.  But 
there  are  other  varieties,  of  a  lefs  ftriking  nature,  the 
conlideration  of  which  may  alfo  fuggell  fome  ufefui 
reflexions. 

It  was  before  remarked,  that  our  ideas  are  fre- 
quently aflociated,  in  confequence  of  the  affociations 
which  take  place  among  their  arbitrary  figns.  In- 
dred,  in  the  cafe  of  all  our  general  fpeculaiions,  it  is 
difficult  to  fee  in  what  other  way  our  thoughts  can 
be  aflociated  ;  for,  I  before  endeavored  to  Ihew, 
that  without  the  ufe  of  figns  of  one  kind  or  another, 
it  would  be  impofiible  for  us  to  make  claffes  or  gen- 
era, objects  of  our  attention. 

Ail  the  figns  by  w^hich  our  thoughts  are  expreffed, 
are  addrelTed  either  to  the  eye  or  to  the  ear  ;  and 
the  impreflions  made  on  thefe  organs,  at  the  time 
when  we  firfl  receive  an  idea,  contribute  to  give  us 
a  firmer  hold  of  it.  Vifible  objecl:s  (as  I  obferved  in 
the  Cfiapter  on  Conception)  ^re  remembered  m<ore 
eafily  than  thofe  of  any  of  our  other  fenfes  ;  and 
hence  it  is,  that  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  more  aid- 
ed in  their  recollection  by  the  impreflions  made  on 
the  eye,  than  by  thofe  made  on  the  ear.  Every 
*  Liv.  i.  chap.  10.     (Du  parler  prompt  ou  tardif.) 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MLND.  37$ 

perfoii  mud  have  remarked^  in  lludying  the  elements 
of  geometry,  how  much  his  recolieclion  of  the  theo- 
rems was  aided,  by  the  diagrams  which  are  connect- 
ed with  them  :  and  I  have  little  doubt,  that  the  dif- 
ficulty which  '.tudents  commonly  fiocl  to  remember 
the  propofitions  of  the  fifth  book  of  Euclid,  arifes 
chiefly  from  this,  that  the  magnitudes  to  which  they 
relate,  are  reprefented  bv  tlraight  lines,  which  do  not 
make  lb  flrong  an  impreflion  on  the  memory,  as  the 
figures  which  illuftrate  the  propofitions  in  the  other 
five  books. 

This  advantage,  which  the  objects  of  fight  natural- 
ly have  over  thofe  of  hearing,  in  the  diftindnefs  and 
the  permanence  of  the  impreifions  which  they  make 
on  the  memory,  continues,  and  even  increafes, 
through  Ufe,  in  the  cafe  of  the  bulk  of  mankind  ; 
becaufe  their  minds,  being  but  little  addicted  to 
general  and  abftra6t  difquifition,are  habitually  occu- 
pied, either  with  the  immediate  perception  of  fuch 
objects,  or  with  fpeculations  in  which  the  conception 
of  them  is  more  or  lets  involved  ;  which  fpeculations, 
fo  far  as  they  relate  to  individual  things  and  individ- 
ual events,  may  be  carried  on  with  little  or  no  afiift- 
ance  from  language. 

The  cafe  is  different  with  the  philofopher,  whofe 
habits  of  abftraction  and  generalifation  lay  him  con- 
tinually under  a  necefiity  of  employing  words  as  an 
inftrument  of  thought.  Such  habits  co-operating 
with  that  inattention,  which  he  is  apt  to  contract  to 
things  external,  muft  have  an  obvious  tendency  to 
weaken  the  original  powers  of  recollection  and  con- 
ception with  refpedt  to  vifiblc  obje(5ts  ;  and,  at  the 
fame  time,  to  ftrengthen  the  power  of  retnining  pro- 
pofitions and  reafonings  exprefTed  in  language.  The 
common  fyftem  of  education,  too,  by  excrcifing  the 
memory  fo  much  in  the  acquifition  of  grammar  rules, 
and  of  pafTages  from  the  antient  authors,  contributes 
gready,  in  the  cafe  of  men  of  letters,  to  cultivate  a 
capacity  for  retaining  words. 


374  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  furprifing,  of  what  a  degree  of  culture,  our 
power  of  retaining  a  fucceflion,  even  of  infignificant 
founds,  is  fufceptible.  Inftances  foiuetimes  occur,  of 
men  who  are  eaiily  able  to  commit  to  memory,  a 
long  poem,  compofed  in  a  language  of  which  they 
are  wholly  ignorant  ;  and  I  have,  myfelf,  known 
more  than  one  inftance,  of  an  individual,  who  afrer 
having  forgotten  completely  the  claffical  ftudies  of 
his  childhood,  was  yet  able  to  repeat,  with  fluency, 
long  pafliiges  from  Homer  and  Virgil,  without  an- 
nexing an  idea  to  the  words  that  he  uttered. 

This  fufceptibility  of  memory  with  refpecl  to 
words,  13  pofTelTed  by  all  men  in  a  very  remarkable 
degree  in  their  early  years,  and  is,  indeed,  necefl'ary 
to  enable  them  to  acquire  the  ufe  of  language  ;  but 
unlefs  it  be  carefully  cultivated  afterwards  by  con- 
llant  exercife,  it  gradually  decays  as  we  advance  to 
maturity.  The  plan  of  education  which  is  followed 
in  this  country,  however  imperfed  in  many  respefts, 
falls  in  happily  with  this  arrangement  of  nature,  and 
ftores  the  mind  richly,  even  in  infancy,  with  intel- 
ledual  treafures,  which  are  to  remain  with  it  through 
life.  The  rules  of  grammar,  which  comprehend 
fyftems,  more  or  lefs  perfect,  of  the  principles  of  the 
dead  languages,  take  a  permanent  hold  of  the  mem- 
ory, when  the  underftanding  is  yet  unable  to  com- 
prehend their  import :  and  the  claffical  remains  of 
antiquity,  which,  at  the  time  we  acquire  them  do 
little  more  than  furnifli  a  gratification  to  the  ear, 
fupply  us  with  inexhauftible  fources  of  the  moft  re- 
fined enjoyment ;  and,  as  our  various  powers  grad- 
ually unfold  themfelves,  are  poured  forth,  without 
eff'ort,  from  the  memory,  to  delight  the  imagination, 
and  to  improve  the  heart.  It  cannot  be  doubted, 
that  a  great  variety  of  other  articles  of  ufeful  knowl- 
edge, particularly  with  refpect  to  geographical  and 
chronological  details,  might  be  communicated  with 
advantage  to  children,  in  the  form  of  memorial  lines* 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  375 

It  IS  only  in  childhood,  that  fuch  details  can  be  learn- 
ed with  facility  ;  and  if  they  were  once  acquired, 
and  rendered  perfeflly  familiar  to  the  mind,  our  ri- 
per years  would  be  fpared  much  of  that  painful  and 
uninterefting  labor,  which  is  perpetually  diftracting 
our  intelle<5lual  powers,  from  thofe  more  important 
exertions,  for  which,  in  their  mature  Hate,  they  feem 
to  be  deftined.  • 

This  tendency  of  literary  habits  in  general,  and 
more  particularly  of  phylofophical  purfuits,  to  exer- 
cife  the  thoughts  about  words,  can  fcarcely  fail  to 
have  fome  efFedt  in  weakening  the  powers  of  recol- 
lection and  conception  with  refpeci  to  fenlible  ob- 
jects ;  and,  in  fad,  I  believe  it  will  be  found,  that 
whatever  advantage  the  philofopher  may  polTefs  over 
men  of  little  education,  in  ftating  general  propofi- 
tions  and  general  reafonings,  he  is  commonly  infe- 
rior to  them  in  point  of  minutenefs  and  accuracy, 
when  he  attempts  to  defcribe  any  object  which, 
he  has  feen,  or  any  event  which  he  has  witnelT- 
ed  ;  fuppoiing  the  curiofity  of  both,  in  fuch  cafes, 
to  be  interefted  in  an  equal  degree.  I  acknowledge, 
indeed,  that  the  undivided  attention,  which  men 
unaccuftomed  to  reflection  are  able  to  give  to  the 
objeds  of  their  perceptions,  is,  in  part,  the  caufe  of 
the  livelinefs  and  correctnefs  of  their  conceptions. 

With  this  diverfity  in  the  intellectual  habits  of 
cultivated  and  of  uncultivated  minds,  there  is  anoth- 
er variety  of  memory  which  feems  to  have  fome 
connection.  In  recognizing  vifible  objects,  the  mem- 
ory of  one  man  proceeds  on  the  general  appearance, 
that  of  another  attaches  itfelf  to  fome  minute  and 
diftinguifhing  marks.  A  peafant  knows  the  various 
kinds  of  trees  from  their  general  habits ;  a  botanift, 
from  thofe  characterillical  circumftances  on  which 
his  clalTification  proceeds.  The  laft  kind  of  memo- 
ry is,  I  think,  moft  common  among  literary  men, 
and  arifes  from  their  habit  of  recollecting  by  means 


376  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

of  words.  It  is  evidently  niuch  eafier  to  exprefs  by 
a  defcription,  a  number  of  botanical  marks,  than  the 
general  habit  of  a  tree  ;  and  the  fane  remark  is  ap- 
plicable to  other  cales  of  a  iimilar  nature.  But  to 
whatever  caufe  we  afcribe  it,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
of  the  fact,  that  many  individuals  are  to  be  found, 
and  chiefly  among  men  of  letters,  who,  although 
they  have  no  memory  for  the  general  appearances 
of  objects,  are  yet  able  to  retain,  with  correclnefs,  an 
immenfe  number  of  technical  ditcriminations. 

Each  of  thefe  kinds  of  memory,  has  its  peculiar 
advantages  and  inconveniencies,  which  the  dread  of 
bein^  tedious  induces  me  to  leave  to  the  invefliffa- 
tion  of  my  readers. 


SECTION  III. 

Of  the  improvemejit  of  Memory, — Analyfis  of  the  Princi- 
pies  on  which  the  Culture  of  Memory  depends, 

THE  improvement  of  which  the  mind  is  fufcep- 
tible  by  culture,  is  more  remarkable,  perhaps,  in  tlie 
cafe  of  Memory,  than  in  that  of  any  other  of  our  fa- 
culties. The  fact  has  been  often  taken  notice  of  in 
general  terms  ;  but  I  am  doubtful  if  the  particular 
mode  in  which  culture  operates  on  this  part  of  our 
conllitution,  has  been  yet  examined  by  philofophefs 
with  the  attention  which  it  deferves. 

Of  one  fort  of  culture,  indeed,  of  which  Memory 
is  fufceptible  in  a  very  ftriking  degree,  no  explana- 
tion can  be  given  ;  I  mean  the  improvement  which 
the  original  faculty  acquires  by  mere  exercife  ;  or  in 
other  words,  the  tendency  which  practice  has  to  in- 
creafe  our  natural  facility  of  affociation.  This  efk:6l 
of  pradice  upon  the  memory,  ieems  to  be  an  ultin  ate 
law  of  our  nature,  or  rather,  to  be  a  particular  in- 
ftarice  of  that  general  law,  that  all  our  powers,  both 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S77 

of  body  and  mind,  may  be  ftrengthened,  by  apply- 
ing them  to  their  proper  purpofes. 

Befides,  however,  the  improvement  which  Mem- 
ory admits  of,  in  confequence  of  the  effects  of  exer- 
cife  on  the  original  faculty,  it  may  be  greatly  aided 
in  its  operations,  by  thofe  expedients  which  reafon 
and  experience  fuggeft  for  employing  it  to  the  heft 
advantage.  Thele  expedients  furnifh  a  curious  fub- 
jeft  of  philofophical  examination  :  perhaps,  too,  the 
inquiry  may  not  be  altogether  without  ufe  ;  for,  al- 
though our  principal  refources  for  ailifting  the  mem- 
ory be  fuggefted  by  nature,  yet  it  is  reafonable  to 
think,  that  in  this,  as  in  fimilar  cafes,  by  following 
out  fyftematically  the  hints  which  (he  fuggefts  to  us, 
a  farther  preparation  may  be  made  for  our  intellect- 
ual improvement. 

Every  perfon  mufl  have  remarked,  in  entering 
upon  any  new  fpecies  of  ftudy,  the  difficulty  of  treaf- 
uring  up  in  the  memory  its  elementary  principles  ; 
and  the  growing  facility  which  he  acquires  in  this  ref- 
pecl,  as  his  knowledge  becomes  more  exteniive.  By 
analifing  the  different  caufes  which  concur  in  produ- 
cing this  facility,  we  may,  perhaps,  be  led  to  fome 
concluiions  which  may  admit  of  a  praClical  applica- 
tion. 

1 .  In  every  fcience,  the  ideas  about  which  it  is 
peculiarly  converfant,  are  connected  together  by 
fome  particular  affociating  principle ;  in  one  fcience, 
for  example,  by  affociations  founded  on  the  relation 
of  caufe  and  effe6l ;  in  another,  by  affociations  foun- 
ded on  the  neceffary  relations  of  mathematical 
truths  ;  in  a  third,  on  affociations  founded  on  con- 
tiguity in  place  or  time.  Hence  one  caufe  of  the 
gradual  improvement  of  memory  with  refpecl  to  the 
familiar  objects  of  our  knowledge  ;  for  whatever  be 
the  prevailing  affociating  principle  among  the  ideas 
about  which  we  are  habitually  occupied,  it  muff  ne- 

Zz 


378  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

cefTarily  acquire  additional  llrcngth  from  our  favor- 
ite ftudy. 

2,  In  proportion  as  a  fcience  becomes  more  fa- 
miliar to  us,  we  acquire  a  greater  command  of  at- 
tention with  refpect  to  the  objects  about  which  it  is 
converfant  ;  for  the  information  which  we  already 
pofiefs,  gives  us  an  intereft  in  every  new  truth,  and 
every  new  fa6l  which  have  any  relation  to  it.  In 
moft  cafes,  our  habits  of  inattention  may  be  traced 
to  a  want  of  curioiity  ;  and  therefore  fuch  habits  are 
to  be  correded,  not  by  endeavoring  to  force  the  at- 
tentioii  in  particular  inftances,  but  by  gradually 
learning  to  place  the  ideas  which  we  wifh  to  remem- 
ber, in  an  interefting  point  of  view. 

S.  When  we  firft  enter  on  any  new  literary  pur- 
fuit,  we  are  unable  to  make  a  proper  difcrimination 
in  point  of  utihty  and  importance,  among  the  ideas 
which  are  prefented  to  us  ;  and  b}'^  attempting  to 
grafp  at  every  thing,  we  fail  in  making  thofe  mode- 
rate acquifitions  which  are  fuited  to  the  limited  pow- 
ers of  the  human  mind.  As  our  information  ex- 
tends, our  feleclion  becomes  more  judicious  and 
more  confined  ;  and  our  knowledge  of  ufeful  and 
conneded  truths  advances  rapidly,  from  our  ceafing 
to  diftract  the  attention  with  fuch  as  are  detached 
and  infignificant, 

4.  Every  object  of  our  knowledge  is  related  to  a 
variety  of  others  ;  and  may  be  prefented  to  the 
thoughts,  fometimes  by  one  principle  of  alTociation, 
and  fometimes  by  another.  In  proportion,  therefore, 
to  the  multiplication  of  mutual  relations  among  our 
ideas,  (which  is  the  natural  refult  of  growing  infor- 
mation, and  in  particular,  of  habits  of  phylolophical 
ftudy,)  the  greater  will  be  the  number  of  occalions 
on  which  they  will  recur  to  the  recollection,  and  the 
firmer  will  be  the  root  which  each  idea,  in  particu- 
lar, will  take  in  the  memory. 

It  followSptoo,  from  this  obfervation,  that  the  h- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  379 

cility  of  retaining  a  new  facl,  or  a  new  idea,  will  de- 
pend on  the  number  of  relations  which  it  bears  to 
the  former  objeds  of  our  knowledge  ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  every  fuch  acquifition,  fo  far  from 
loading  the  memory,  gives  us  a  firmer  hold  of  all 
that  part  of  our  previous  im formation,  with  which 
it  is  in  any  degree  connected. 

It  may  not,  perhaps,  be  improper  to  take  this  op- 
portunity of  obferving,  although  the  remark  be  not 
immediately  connected  with- our  prefent  fubjed:,  that 
the  acceflion  made  to  the  flock  of  our  knowledge,  by 
the  new  fads  and  ideas  which  we  acquire,  is  not  to  be 
ellimated  merely  by  the  number  ot  thefe  fads  and 
ideas  confidered  individually  *,  but  by  the  number  of 
relations  which  they  bear  to  one  another,  and  to  all 
the  different  particulars  which  were  previoufly  in  the 
mind  ;  for,  "  new  know^ledge,"  (as  Mr.  Maclauriii 
has  w^ell  remarked,*)  "  does  not  confifl  fo  much  in 
*'  in  our  having  accefs  to  a  new  objed,  as  in  com- 
"  paring  it  with  others  already  known,  obferving  its 
"  relations  to  them,  or  difcerning  what  it  has  in 
"  common  wuth  them,  and  wherein  their  difparity 
"  confifls  :  and,  therefore,  our  knowledge  is  vaflly 
"  greater  than  thefum  of  what  all  its  objeds  fepa- 
"  rately  could  afford  ;  and  when  a  new  objed  comes 
"  within  our  reach,  the  addition  to  our  knowledge 
"  is  the  greater,  the  more  we  already  know  ;  fo  that 
"  it  increafes,  not  as  the  new  objeds  increafe,  but  in 
"  a  much  higher  proportion." 

5.  In  the  lafl  place,  the  natural  powers  of  Menv 
ory  are,  in  the  cafe  of  the  philofopher,  greatly  aided 
by  his  peculiar  habits  of  claflification  and  arrange- 
ment. As  this  is  by  far  the  mofl  important  im- 
provement of  which  Memory  is  fufceptible,  I  fhall 
ronfider  it  more  particular  than  any  of  the  others  I 
have  mentioned. 

*  See  the  Conclusion  of  his  View  of  Newton's  Discoveries. 


380  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PriILOSQPHV 

The  advantages  which  the  memory  derives  from, 
a  proper  clafiilication  of  our  ideas,  may  be  beft  con- 
ceived by  attending  to  its  eflecls,  in  enabling  us  ta 
conduct,  with  eafe,  the  common  bufinefs  of  life.  In 
what  inextrible  confufion  would  the  lawyer  or  the 
merchant  be  immediately  involved,  if  he  were  to  de- 
pofit,  in  his  cabinet,  promifcuoufly,  the  various  writ- 
ten documents  which  daily  and  hourly  pafs  through 
his  hands  ?  Nor  could  this  confufion  be  prevented 
by  the  natural  powers  of  memory,  however  vigor- 
ous they  might  happen  to  be.  By  a  proper  diftribu- 
tion  of  thefe  documents,  and  a  judicious  referrence 
of  them  to  a  few  general  titles,  a  very  ordinary  memo- 
ry is  enabled  to  accomplifh  more,  than  the  mod  reten- 
tive, unailifted  by  method.  We  knovi^,  with  certain- 
ty, where  to  find  any  article  we  may  have  occafion 
for,  if  it  be  in  our  pofieffion  ;  and  the  fearch  is  con-« 
fined  within  reafon2.bIe  limits,  inftead  of  being  al- 
lowed to  wander  at  random  amidil  a  chaos  of  par* 
tieulars. 

Or,  to  take  an  inflance  flili  more  immediately  ap- 
plicable to  our  purpofe  :  fuppofe  that  a  man  of  letters 
were  to  record,  in  a  common-place  book,  without 
any  method,  all  the  various  ideas  and  facts  which 
occurred  to  him  in  the  courfe  of  his  ftudies  ;  w-hat 
difficulties  w^ould  hs  perpetually  experience  in  apply- 
ing his  acquifitions  to  ufe  ?  and  how  completely  and 
eafily  might  thefe  difficulties  be  obviated  by  refer- 
ing  the  particulars  of  his  information  to  certain 
general  heads  ?  It  is  obvious,  too,  that,  by  doing  fo, 
he  would  not  only  have  his  knowledge  much  more 
completely  under  his  command,  but  as  the  particu- 
lars claffed  together  would  all  have  fome  conne<5lion 
more  or  less,  with  each  other,  he  would  be  enabled 
to  trace  with  advantage,  thofe  mutual  relations 
among  his  ideas,  which  it  is  the  objecl  of  philofophy 
to  afcertain. 

A  common-place  book,  conducted  without  apy 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  381 

method,  is  an  exact  picture  oF  the  memory  of  a  man 
whofe  inquiries  are  not  direded  by  philoiophy.  And 
the  advantages  of  order  in  treafuring  up  our  ideas 
in  the  mind,  are  perfectly  analogous  to  its  effedls 
when  they  are  recorded  in  writing. 

Nor  is  this  all.  In  order  to  retain  our  knowledge 
diftindiy  and  permanently,  it  is  neceffary  that  we 
fliould  frequently  recal  it  to  our  recoiiedion.  But 
how  can  this  be  done  without  the  aid  of  arrangement? 
Or  fuppofing  that  it  were  poilible,  how  much  time 
and  labor  would  be  Keceffary  for  bringing  under 
our  view  the  various  particulars  of  which  our  infor- 
mation is  compofed  ?  In  proportion  as  it  is  properly 
fyilematifed,  this  time  and  labor  are  abridged.  The 
mind  dwells  habitually,  not  on  detached  fadls,  but 
on  a  comparatively  fmali  number  of  general  princi-. 
pies  ;  and,  by  means  of  thefe,  it  can  fummon  up,  as 
occalions  may  require,  an  infinite  number  of  partic^ 
ulars  affociated  with  them  ;  each  of  which,  confider- 
ed  as  a  foiitary  truth,  would  have  been  as  burthen- 
Ibme  to  the  memory,  as  the  general  principle  with 
which  it  is  connected. 

I  would  not  wifh  it  to  be  underftood  from  thefe 
obfervations,  that  philofophy  confifts  in  clafiification 
alone  ;  and  that  its  only  ufe  is  to  allift  the  memory, 
I  have  often,  indeed,  heard  this  aflerted  in  general 
terms  ;  but  it  appeal's  to  me  to  be  obvious,  that  al- 
though this  be  one  of  its  moft  important  ufes,  yet 
fomething  more  is  neceffary  to  complete  the  defini- 
tion of  it.  Were  the  cafe  otherwife,  it  would  fol- 
low, that  all  claffifications  are  equally  philofophical 
provided  they  are  equally  comprehenfive.  The  ve- 
]?y  great  importance  of  this  fubject  will,  I  hope,  be 
a  fuflicient  apology  for  me,  in  taking  this  opportu- 
nity to  correct  fome  miftaken  opinions  which  have 
been  formed  concerning  it. 


ELEMENTS  OP  THE  PHILOSOPHY 


SECTION  IV. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  fuhje6l, — Aid  which  the  Memsc 
ry  derives  from  Philofophical  Arrangement* 

IT  was  before  obferved,  that  the  great  ufe  of  the 
faculty  of  Memory,  is  to  enable  us  to  treafure  up, 
for  the  future  regulation  of  our  conduct,  the  refults 
of  our  paft  experience,  and  of  our  paft  reflections. 
But  in  every  cafe  in  which  we  judge  of  the  future 
from  the  paft,  we  muft  proceed  on  the  belief,  that 
there  is,  in  the  courfe  of  events,  a  certain  degree,  at 
leall,  of  uniformity,  i^nd,  accordingly,  this  belief 
is  not  only  juftified  by  experience,  but  (as  Dr.  Reid 
has  fhewn,  in  a  very  fatisfadory  manner)  it  forms  a 
part  of  the  original  conftitution  of  the  human  mind. 
In  the  general  laws  of  the  material  world,  this  uni- 
formity is  found  to  be  complete  ;  infomuch  that,  in 
the  fame  combinations  of  circumftances,  we  exped:, 
with  the  moft  perfect  affurance,  that  the  fame  refults 
will  take  place.  In  the  moral  world,  the  courfe  of 
events  does  not  appear  to  be  equally  regular ;  but 
flill  it  is  regular,  to  fo  great  a  degree,  as  to  afford  us 
many  rules  of  importance  in  the  condud  of  life. 

A  knowledge  of  Nature,  in  fo  far  as  it  is  abfolute- 
ly  neceffary  for  the  prefervation  of  our  animal  ex. 
iftence,  is  obtruded  on  us,  without  any  reflexion  ©n 
our  part,  from  our  earlieft  infancy.  It  is  thus  that 
children  learn  of  themfelves  to  accommodate  their 
conduct  to  the  eftablifhed  laws  of  the  material  world. 
In  doing  fo,  they  are  guided  merely  by  memory, 
and  the  inftinCtive  principle  of  anticipation,  which 
has  juft  been  mentioned. 

In  forming  conclufions  concerning  future  events, 
the  philofopher,  as  well  as  the  infant,  can  only  build 
with  fafety  on  paft  experience  ;  and  he,  too,  as  well 
as  the  infant,  proceeds  on  an  inftind:ive  belief,  for 


O^  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S8S 

tvhich  he  is  unable  to  account,  of  the  uniformity  of 
the  laws  of  nature.  There  are,  however,  two  im- 
portant refped:s,  which  diftinguifh  the  knowledge 
he  pofleffes  from  that  of  ordinary  men.  In  the  firft 
place,  it  is  far  more  extenfive,  in  confequence  of  the 
afliftance  which  fcience  gives  to  his  natural  powers 
of  invention  and  difcovery.  Secondly,  it  is  not  on- 
ly more  eafily  retained  in  the  memory,  and  more  con- 
veniently applied  to  ufe,  in  confequence  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  his  ideas  are  arranged  ;  but  it  enables 
him  to  afcertain,  by  a  procefs  of  reafoning,  all  thofe 
truths  which  may  be  fynthetically  deduced  from 
his  general  principles.  The  illuftration  of  thefe  par- 
ticulars will  lead  to  fome  ufeful  remarks  ;  and  will 
at  the  fame  time  fliew,  that,  in  difcuffing  the  fubjed 
of  this  Section,  I  have  not  loft  fight  of  the  inquiry 
which  occafioned  it. 

I.  1.  It  was  already  remarked,  that  the  natural 
powers  of  Memory,  together  with  an  inftiticflive  an- 
ticipation of  the  future  from  the  paft,  which  forms 
one  of  the  original  principles  of  the  mind,  are  fufE- 
cient  to  enable  infants,  after  a  very  fhort  experience, 
to  preferve  their  animal  exiftence.  The  laws  of  na- 
ture, which  it  is  not  fo  important  for  us  to  know, 
and  which  are  the  objects  of  philofophical  curiofity, 
are  not  fo  obvioully  expofed  to  our  view,  but  are,  in 
general,  brought  to  li^ht  by  means  of  experiments 
which  are  made  for  the  purpofe  of  difcovery  ;  or, 
in  other  words,  by  artificial  combinations  of  circum- 
ftances,  which  we  have  no  opportunity  of  feeing  con- 
joined in  the  courfe  of  our  ordinary  experience.  In 
this  manner,  it  is  evident,  that  many  connexions 
may  be  afcertained,  which  would  never  have  occur- 
red fpontaneoufly  to  our  obfervation. 

2.  There  are,  too,  fome  inftances,  particularly  in 
the  cafe  of  the  aftronomical  phenomena,  in  which 
event,  that  appear  to  common  obfervers  to  be  alto- 
gether anomalous,  are  found,  upon  a  more  accurate 


584  ELEMENTS  OF  T^E  PHlLOSdPHY 

and  continued  examination  of  them,  to  be  fubje(?led 
to  a  regular  law.  Such  are  thofe  phenomena  in  the 
heavens,  which  we  are  able  to  predicl  by  means  of 
Cycles.  In  the  cafes  formerly  defcribed,  our  knowl- 
edge of  nature  is  extended  by  placing  her  in  new 
iituations.  In  thefe  cafes,  it  is  exrended  by  continu- 
ing our  obfervations  beyond  the  limits  of  ordinary 
curiofity. 

3.  In  the  cafe  of  human  affairs,  as  long  as  w^e  con- 
fine our  attention  to  particulars,  we  do  not  obferve 
the  fame  unlforniiry,  as  in  the  phenomena  of  the 
material  world.  When,  however,  we  extend  out 
views  to  events  which  depend  on  a  combination  of 
different  circujutiances,  fuch  a  degree  of  uniformity 
appears,  as  enables  us  to  eftablifh  general  rules,  from 
which  probable  conjectures  may  often  be  formed 
with"  refpeci:  to  futurity.  It  is  thus,' that  we  cati 
pronounce,  with  much  greater  confidence,  concern- 
ing the  proportion  of  deaths  which  fhall  happen  in  a 
certain  period  among  a  given  number  of  men,  than 
we  can  predifl  the  death  of  any  individual ;  and 
that  it  is  more  reafonable  to  employ  our  fagacity,irt 
fpeculating  concerning  the  probable  determinations 
of  a  numerous  fociety,  than  concerning  events  which 
depend  on  the  will  of  a  fingle  perfon. 

In  what  manner  this  uniformity  in  events  depen- 
ding on  contingent  circumllances  is  j^roduced,  1  fliall 
not  inquire  at  prefent.  The  advantages  which  we 
derive  from  it  are  obvious,  as  it  enables  us  to  col- 
led, from  our  pad  experience,  many  general  rules, 
both  with  refpecl  to  the  hill:ory  of  political  focieties, 
and  the  characters  and  condudl  of  men  in  private 
life., 

4.  In  the  laft  place  ;  the  knowledge  of  the  philof- 
opher  is  more  extenfive  than  that  of  other  men,  in 
confequence  of  the  attention  which  he  gives,  nOt 
merely  to  objec^ls  and  to  events,  but  to  the  relations 
w^hich  different  objects  and  different  events  bear  to 
each  other. 


GF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  S8S 

The  obfervations  and  the  experience  of  the  vul- 
gar are  almolt  wholly  limited  to  things  perceived  by 
the  fenfes,  A  fimilarity  between  different  objecls, 
or  between  different  events,  roufes  their  curiofity, 
and  leads  them  toxlaflification,  and  to  general  rules. 
But  a  fimilarity  between  different  relations^  is  feldom 
to  be  traced  without  previous  habits  of  philof  )phic- 
al  inquiry.  Many  fuch  familiarities  or  connections, 
however,  are  to  be  found  in  nature  ;  and  when  once 
they  are  afcertained,  they  frequently  lead  to  impor- 
tant difcoveries  ;  not  only  with  refped  to  other  re- 
lations, but  with  refpec7t  to  the  objecls  or  to  the  e- 
vents  which  are  related.  Thefe  remarks  it  will  be 
neceffary  to  illuftrate  more  particularly. 

The  great  object  of  Geometry  is  to  afcertain  the 
relations  which  exiff  between  different  quantities, 
and  the  connections  which  exift  betw^een  different  re- 
lations. When  we  demonftrate,  that  the  angle  at 
the  centre  of  a  circle  is  double  of  the  angle  at  the 
circumference  on  the  fame  bafe,  we  afcertain  a  reh- 
tion  between  two  quantities.  When  we  demon- 
ftrate,  that  triangles  of  the  fame  altitude  are  to  each 
other  as  their  bafes,  we  afcertain  a  conned:ion  be- 
tween two  relations.  It  is  obvious,  how  much  the 
mathematical  fciences  muft  contribute  to  enlarge  our 
knowledge  of  the  univerfe,  in  confequence  of  fuch 
difcoveries.  In  that  fimpleft  of  all  proceifes  of  prac- 
tical geometry,  which  teaches  us  to  nieafure  the 
height  of  an  acceflible  tower,  by  comparing  the 
length  of  its  Ihadow  with  that  of  a  ftaff  fixed  verti- 
cally in  the  ground,  we  proceed  on  the  principle, 
that  the  relation  between  the  fhacjow  of  the  ftaff 
and  the  height  of  the  flaff  is  the  fame  with  the 
relation  between  the  fhadow  of  the  tower  and 
the  height  of  the  tower.  But  the  former  rela- 
tion we  can  afcertain  by  actual  meafurement  j 
and,  of  confequence,  we  not  only  obtain  the  oth- 
er relation  ;  but,  as  we  can  meafure  one  of  the 
A  A  a 


3S6  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

related  quantities,  we  obtain  alfo  the  other  quanti- 
ty. Tn  every  cafe  in  which  mathematics  afliils  us 
in  meaiuring  the  magnitudes  or  the  diftances  of  ob- 
■jecls,  it  proceeds  on  the  fame  principle  ;  that  is,  it 
begins  with  afcertaining  coned:ions  among  different 
2*elations,  and  thus  enables  us  to  carry  our  inquiries 
from  fads  which  are  expofed  to  the  examination  of 
our  fenfes,  to  the  moft  remote  parts  of  the  univerfe. 

I  obferved  alfo,  that  there  are  various  relations  ex- 
ifting  among  phyfical  events,  and  various  connec- 
tions exifting  among  thefe  relations.  It  is  owing 
to  this  circumftance,  that  mathematics  is  fo  ufeful  an 
inftrument  in  the  hands  of  the  phyfical  inquirer.  In 
that  beautiful  theorem  of  Huyghens,  which  demon- 
ftrates,  that  the  time  of  a  complete  ofcillation  of  a 
pendulum  in  the  cycloid,  is  to  the  time  in  which  a 
body  would  fall  through  the  axis  of  the  cycloid,  as 
the  circumference  of  a  circle  is  to  its  diameter,  we 
are  made  acquainted  with  a  very  curious  and  unex- 
pe6ted  conneftion  between  two  relations  ;  and  the 
knowledge  of  this  connexion  facilitates  the  deter- 
mination of  a  moft  important  fad  with  refpedl  to  the 
defcent  of  heavy  bodies  near  the  earth's  furface, 
which  could  not  be  afcertained  conveniently  by  a  dt- 
red  experinient. 

In  examining,  with  attention,  the  relations  among 
different  phyfical  events,  and  the  connexions  among 
different  relations,  we  fometimes  are  led  by  mere 
indudion  to  the  difcoveiy  of  a  general  law  ;  while, 
to  ordinary  obfervers,  nothing  appears  but  irregu- 
larity. From  the  writings  of  the  earlier  opticians 
we  learn,  that,  -in  examining  the  firft  principles  of 
dioptrics,  they  were  led,  by  the  analogy  of  the  law 
of  reflexion,  to  fearch  for  the  relation  between  the 
angles  of  incidence  and  refraction,  (in  the  cafe  of 
light  pafling  from  one  medium  into  another,)  in  the 
angles  themfelves  ;  and  that  fome  of  them,  finding 
this  inquiry  unfucc^fsful,  took  the  trouble  to  deter^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S87 

mine,  by  experiments,  im  the  cafe  of  the  media 
which  moft  frequently  fall  under  confideration,)  the 
angle  of  refraction  correfponding  to  every  minute  of 
incidence.  Some  very  laborious  tables,  deduced 
from  fuch  experiments,  are  to  be  found  in  the  works 
of  Kircher.  At  length,  Snelius  difcovered  what  is 
now  called  the  law  of  refradion,  which  compre- 
hends their  whole  contents  in  a  lingle  fentence. 

The  law  of  the  planetary  motions,  deduced  by 
Kepler,  from  the  obfervationsofTycho  Brahe,  is  an- 
other ftriking  illuftration  of  the  order,  which  an  at- 
tentive  enquirer  is  fometimes  able  to  trace,  among 
the  relations  of  phyiical  events,  when  the  events 
themfelves  appear,  on  a  fuperficial  view,  to  be  per- 
fectly anomalous. 

Such  laws  are,  in  fome  refpeds,  analogous  to  the 
cycles  which  I  have  already  mentioned  ;  but  they 
differ  from  them  in  this,  that  a  cycle  is,  commonly, 
deduced  from  obfervations  made  on  phyfical  events 
which  are  obvious  to  the  fenfes  :  whereas  the  laws 
we  have  now  been  confidering,  are  deduced  from 
an  examination  of  relations  which  are  known  only 
to  men  of  fcience.  The  mod  celebrated  aitronomic- 
al  cycles,  accordingly,  are  of  a  very  remote  antiquity, 
and  were  probably  difcoverd  at  a  period,  when  the 
ftudy  of  aftronomy  confifted  merely  in  accumulating 
and  recording  the  more  ftriking  appearances  of  the 
heavens. 

II.  Having  now  endeavored  to  fhew,  how  much 
philofophy  contributes  to  extend  our  knowledge  of 
fad^,  by  aiding  our  natural  powers  of  invention  and 
difcovery,  I  proceed  to  explain,  in  what  manner  it 
fupercedes  the  neceflity  of  Itudying  particular  truths, 
by  putting  us  in  poireflion  of  a  comparatively  fmall 
number  of  general  principles  in  which  they  are  in- 
volved. 

I  already  remarked  the  affiftance  which  philofo- 
phy  gives  to  the  memory,  in  ccnfequence  of  the  ar- 


SS8  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

rangement  it  introduces  among  our  ideas.  In  thia 
refped  even  a  hypothetical  theory  may  facilitate  the 
recollecllon  of  fafts ;  in  the  fame  manner  in  which 
the  memory  is  aided  in  remembering  the  obje<5i:s  of 
natural  hiilory  by  artificial  claffifications. 

The  advantages,  however,  we  derive  from  true 
philofophy,  are  incomparably  greater  than  what  are 
to  be  expe<5l:ed  from  any  hypothetical  theories, 
Thefe,  indeed,  may  affiil  us  in  recollecting  the  par- 
ticulars we  are  already  acquainted  with  ;  but  it  is 
only  from  the  laws  of  nature,  which  have  been  tra- 
ced analytically  from  fads,  that  we  can  venture,  with 
lafety,  to  deduce  confequences  by  reafbning  ^ />r/(?r/. 
An  example  will  illuftrate  and  confirm  this  obferva- 
tion. 

Suppofe  that  a  glafs  tube,  thirty  inches  long,  is 
filled  with  mercury,  excepting  eight  inches,  and  is 
inverted  as  in  the  Torricellian  experiment,  fo  that 
the  eight  inches  of  common  air  may  rife  to  the  top  ; 
and  tiiai  I  wifh  to  know  at  what  height  the  mercu- 
ry will  remain  fufpended  in  the  tube,  the  barometer 
being  at  that  time  twenty-eight  inches  high.  There 
is  here  a  combination  of  diiferent  laws,  which  it  is 
neceffary  to  attend  to,  in  order  to  be  able  to  predict 
the  refult.  1.  The  air  is  a  heavy  fluid,  and  the 
preffure  of  the  atmofphere  is  meafured  by  the  col- 
umn of  mercury  in  the  barometer.  2.  The  air  is 
an  elaftic  fluid ;  and  its  elaflicity  at  the  earth's  fur- 
face  (as  it  refifts  the  preiTure  of  the  atmofphere)  is 
meafured  by  the  column  of  mercury  in  the  barometer* 
3.  In  different  flates,  the  elaftic  force  of  the  air  i;  re- 
ciprocally as  the  fpaces  which  it  occupies.  But,  in 
this  experiment,  the  mercury  which  remains  fufpen- 
ded in  the  tube,  together  with  the  elaftic  force  of 
the  air  in  the  top  of  the  tube,  is  a  counterbalance  to 
the  preflure  of  the  atmofphere  y  and  therefore  their 
joint  elled  mull  be  equal  to  the  preflure  of  a  column 
of  mercury  twenty- eight  inches  high.     Hence  we 


€>?  THfi  HUMAN  MIND.  589 

obtain  an  algt^braical  equation,  which  afTords  an  eafy 
folution  of  the  problem.  It  is  further  evident,  that 
my  knowledge  of  the  phyfical  laws  which  are  here 
combined,  puts  it  in  my  power  to  foretell  the  refult, 
not  only  in  this  cafe,  but  in  all  the  cafes  of  a  fimilar 
nature  which  can  be  fuppofed.  'Ihe  problem,  in  any 
particular  inftance,  might  be  folved  by  making  the 
experiment  ;  but  the  refult  would  be  of  no  ufe  to 
me,  if  the  flighted  alteration  were  made  on  the  data. 

It  is  in  this  manner  that  philofophy,  by  putting 
us  in  pofTefllon  of  a  few  general  fadis,  enables  us  to 
determine,  by  reafoning,  what  will  be  the  refult  of 
any  fuppofed  combination  of  them,  and  thus  to 
comprehend  an  infinite  variety  of  particulars,  which 
no  memory,  however  vigorous,  would  have  been 
able  to  retain. 

In  confequence  of  the  knowledge  of  fuch  general 
fadls  the  philofopher  is  relieved  from  the  neceffiiy  of 
treafuring  up  in  his  mind,  all  tbofe  truths  which  are 
involved  in  his  principles,  and  which  may  be  dedu- 
ced from  them  by  reafoning  ;  and  he  can  often  pro- 
fecute  his  difcoveries  fynthetically,  in  thofe  parts  of 
the  univerfe  which  he  has  no  accefs  to  examine  by 
immediate  obfervation.  There  is,  therefore,  this 
important  difference  between  a  hypothetical  theory, 
and  a  theory  obtained  by  induction  ;  that  the  latter 
not  only  enables  us  to  remember  the  facls  we  already 
know,  but  to  afcertain  by  reafoning,  many  facts  which 
we  have  never  had  an  opportunity  of  examining  : 
whereas,  when  we  reafon  from  a  hypothelis  a  priori^ 
we  are  almoft  certain  of  running  into  error  ;  and, 
confequently,  whatever  may  be  its  ufe  to  the  mem- 
ory, it  can  never  be  trufled  to,  in  judging  of  cafes 
which  have  not  previoufly  fallen  within  our  experi- 
ence. 

There  are  fome  fciences,  in  which  hypothetical 
theories  are  more  ufeful  than  in  others ;  shofe  fcien- 
ces,  to  wit,  in  which  we  have  occafion  for  an  exten- 


a^O  ELEMENTS  (VF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

five  knowledge  and  a  ready  recolledion  of  facls,  and 
which,  at  the  fame  time,  are  yet  in  too  imperfect  a 
ftate  to  allow  us  to  obtain  juft  theories  by  the  meth- 
od of  indudion.  This  is  particularly  the  cafe  in  the 
fcience  of  medicine,  in  which  we  are  under  a  ne- 
ceflity  to  apply  our  knowledge,  fuch  as  it  is,  to  prac« 
tice.  It  is  alfo,  in  fome  degree,  the  cafe  in  agricul- 
ture. In  the  merely  fpeculative  parts  of  phifics  and 
chemiftry,  we  may  go  on  patiently  accumulating 
fads,  without  forming  any  one  conclufion,  farther 
than  our  fa6ls  authorize  us  ;  and  leave  to  pofterity 
the  credit  of  eflablifhing  the  theory  to  which  our 
labors  are  fubfervient.  But  in  medicine,  in  which 
it  is  of  confequence  to  have  our  knowledge  at  com- 
mand, it  feems  reafonable  to  think,  that  hypothetical 
theories  may  be  ufed  with  advantage  ;  provided  al- 
ways, that  they  are  confidered  merely  in  the  light  of 
artificial  memories,  and  that  the  ftudent  is  prepared 
to  lay  them  afide,  or  to  correct  them,  in  proportion 
as  his  knowledge  of  nature  becomes  more  extenfive. 
I  am,  indeed,  ready  to  confefs  that  this  is  a  caution 
which  it  is  more  eafy  to  give  than  to  follow  :  for  it 
is  painful  to  change  any  of  our  habits  of  arrangement, 
and  to  relinquifli  thofe  fyftems  in  which  we  have 
been  educated,  and  which  have  long  flattered  us  with 
an  idea  of  our  own  wifdom.  Dr  Gregory  mentions* 
it  as  a  ftriking  and  diftinguifhing  circumftance  in  the 
charader  of  Sydenham,  that,  although  full  of  hypo- 
thetical reafoning,  it  did  not  render  him  the  lefs  at- 
tentive to  obfervation  ;  and  that  his  hypothefes  feem 
to  have  fat  fo  loofely  about  him,  that  either  they 
did  not  influence  his  practice  at  all,  or  he  could  ea- 
fily  abandon  them,  whenever  they  would  not  bend 
to  his  experience. 

*  Lectures  on  the  Duties  and  Qualifications  of  a  Physician. 


^F  THE  HUMAN  MIN-D.  $91 


SECTION  V, 


Continuation  of  the  fame  fubjed, — Effe6ls  produced  on  iJye 
Memory  by  committing  to  Writing  our  acquired  Knowl- 
edge. 

HAVING  treated  at  confiderable  length  of  the 
improvement  of  memory,  it  may  not  be  improper, 
before  leaving  this  part  of  the  fubjecl,  to  confider 
what  effech  are  likely  to  be  produced  on  the  mind 
by  the  practice  of  committing  to  writing  our  acquir- 
ed knowledge.  That  fuch  a  practice  is  unfavorable, 
in  fome  refpecls,  to  the  faculty  of  memory,  by  fuper- 
feding,  to  a  certain  degree,  the  necellity  of  its  exer- 
tions, has  been  often  remarked,  and  I  believe  is  true ; 
but  the  advantages  with  which  it  is  attended  in  otb- 
er  refpeds,  are  fo  important,  as  to  overbalance  great- 
ly this  trilling  inconvenience. 

It  is  not  my  intention  at  prefent  to  examine  and 
compare  together  the  different  methods  which  have 
been  propofed,  of  keeping  a  common-place  book. 
In  this,  as  in  other  cafes  of  a  fimilar  kind,  it  may  be 
difficult,  perhaps,  or  impolTible,  to  eflablifti  any  rules 
which  will  apply  univerfally.  Individuals  muft  be 
left  to  judge  for  themfelves,  and  to  adapt  their  con- 
trivances to  the  particular  nature  of  their  literary 
purfuits,  and  to  their  own  peculiar  habits  of  affocia- 
tion  and  arrangement.  The  remarks  which  I  am  to 
offer  are  very  general,  and  are  intended  merely  to 
illuflrate  a  few  of  the  advantages  which  the  art  of 
writing  affords  to  the  philofopher,  for  recording,  in 
the  courfe  of  his  progrefs  through  life,  the  reiuits  of 
his  fpeculations,  and  the  fruits  of  his  experience. 

The  utility  of  writing,  in  enabling  one  generation 
to  tranfmit  its  difcoveries  to  another,  and  in  thus 
giving  rife  to  a  gradual  progrefs  in  the  fpecies,  has 
been  fufliciently  illuftrated  by  m^ny  authors.     Little 


392  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHV 

attention,  however,  has  been  paid  to  another  of  itr^ 
effects,  which  is  uo  lefs  important ;  I  mean,  to  the 
foundation  which  it  lays  for  a  perpetual  progrefs  in 
the  intelleclu  il  powers  of  the  individual 

It  k  to  experience,  and  to  our  own  refledions, 
that  we  are  indebted  for  by  far  the  moft  valuable 
part  of  our  knowledge  :  and  hence  it  is,  that  although 
in  youth  the  imagination  may  be  more  vigorous, 
and  the  genius  more  original,  than  in  advanced 
years  ;  yet,  in  the  cafe  of  a  man  of  obfervation  and 
inquiry,  the  judgment  may  be  expected,  at  lead  as 
long  as  his  faculties  remain  in  perfection,  to  become 
every  day  founder  and  more  enlightened.  It  is, 
however,  only  by  the  conihnt  pradice  of  writing, 
that  the  refuits  of  our  experience,  and  the  pro- 
grefs of  our  ideas,  can  be  accurately  recorded* 
If  they  are  trufted  merely  to  the  memory,  they 
will  gradually  vani,fh  from  it  hke  a  dream,  or 
will  come  in  time  to  be  fo  blended  with  the  fuggefl- 
ions  of  imagination,  that  we  fhall  not  be  able  to  realon 
from  them  with  any  degree  of  confidence.  What 
improvements  in  fcience  might  we  not  flatter  our- 
felves  with  the  hopes  of  accomplifliing,  had  we  only 
activity  and  induftry  to  treafure  up  every  plaufible 
hint  that  occurs  to  us  !  Hardly  a  day  paffes,  when 
many  fuch  do  not  occur  to  ourfelves,  or  are  luggeft- 
«d  by  others  ;  and  detached  and  infulated,  as  they 
may  appear  at  prefent,  fome  of  them  may  perhaps 
afterwards,  at  the  diitance  of  years,  furniih  the  key* 
ilone  cf  an  important  fyil:em. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  this  point  of  view  that  the 
philolopher  derives  advantage  from  the  prad:i;  e  of 
wricino:.  Vv^ithout  its  aiTiltance,  he  could  feldom  be 
able  to  advance  beyond  thofe  iimple  elenientary 
truths  vi'hich  are  current  in  the  world,  and  which 
form,  in  the  various  branches  of  fcience,  the  eftab- 
liflied  creed  of  the  age  he  lives  in.  How  inconfider- 
able  would  have  been  the  progrefs  of  mathematicians.. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  393 

ill  their  more  abftrufe  fpeculations,  without  the  aid 
of  the  algebraical  notation  ;    and  to  what  fublime 
difcoveries  have  they  been  led  by  this  beautiful  con- 
trivance, which  by  relieving  the  memory  of  the  ef- 
fort neceflary  for  recollecting  the  fteps  of  a  long  in- 
Veftigation,  has  enabled  them  toprofecute  an  infinite 
variety  of  inquiries,  to  which  the  unafntied   powers 
of  the  human  mind  would  have  been  altogether  un- 
equal !  In  the  other  fciences,  it  is  true,  we  have  (eU 
dom  or  never  occafion  to  follow  out  fuch  long  chains 
of  confequences  as  in  mathematics  ;    but  in  thefe 
fciences,  if  the  chain  of  inveftigation  be  ihorter,  it  is 
far  more  difficult  to  make  the  tranfition  from  one 
link  to  another  ;  and  it  is  only  by  dwelling  long  on 
our  ideas,  and  rendering  them  perfed:ly  familiar  to 
U3,  that  fuch  tranfitions  can,  in  moft  inftances,  be 
made  with  fafety.     In  morals  and  politics^  when  we 
advance  a  ftep  beyond  thofe  elementary  truths  which 
are  daily  prefented  to  us  in  books  or  converfation, 
there  is  no  method  of  rendering  our  conclufions  fa- 
miliar to  us,  but  by  committing  them  to  writing, 
and  making  them  frequently  the  fubjedls  of  our  med- 
ication.    When  we  have  once  done  fo,  thefe  con- 
clufions become  elementary  truths  with  refpecl  to  us; 
and  we  may  advance  from  them  with  confidence  to 
others  which  are  more  remote,  and  which  are  far 
beyond  the  reach  of  vulgar  difcovery.     By  follow- 
ing fuch  a  plan,  wc  can  hardly  fail  to  have  our  in- 
duftry  rewarded  in  due  time  by  fome  important  im- 
provement ;  and  it  is  only  by  fuch  a  plan  that  we  can 
reasonably  hope  to  extend  coniiderably  the  bounda- 
ries of  human  knowledge.  I  do  not  fay  that  thefe  hab- 
its of  ffudy  are  equally  favorable  to  brilliancy  of  con- 
verfation.     On  the  contrary,  I  believe  that  thofe 
men  who  poffefs  this  accomplifhment  in  the  highefl 
degree,  are  fuch  as  do  not  advance  beyond  elemen- 
tary truths  ;  or  rather,  perhaps,  who  advance  only 
a  fingle  Itep  beyoild  them  ;  that  is,  who  think  a  lit- 
Bfib 


394  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILO&OPHY 

tie  more  deeply  than  the  vulgar,  but  whofe  conclu- 
fions  are  not  fo  far  removed  from  common  opinions, 
as  to  render  it  neceflary  for  them,  when  called  upon 
to  defend  them,  to  exhauft  the  patience  of  their  hear- 
ers, by  Hating  a  long  train  of  intermediate  ideas* 
They  who  have  pulhed  their  inquiries  much  farther 
than  the  common  fyftems  of  their  times,  and  have 
rendered  familiar  to  their  own  minds  the  intermedi- 
ate tteps  by  which  they  have  been  led  to  their  con- 
clulions,  are  too  apt  to  conceive  other  men  to  be  in 
the  fame  fituation  with  themfelves  ;  and  when  they 
mean  to  inilrucl,  are  mortified  to  find  that  they  are 
only  regarded  as  paradoxical  and  vifionary.  It  is 
but  rarely  we  find  a  man  of  very  fplendid  and  vari- 
ous converfation  to  be  poiTeffed  of  a  profound  judg- 
ment or  of  great  originality  of  genius. 

Nor  is  it  merely  to  the  philofopher,  who  wifhes  to 
diftinguifh  himfelf  by  his  difcoveries,  that  waiting 
affords  an  ufeful  inflrument  of  fi:udy.  Important 
ailidance  may  be  derived  from  it  by  all  thofe  who 
wifh  to  imprels  on  their  minds  the  inveftigations 
which  occur  to  them  in  the  courfe  of  their  reading ; 
for  although  writing  may  w^eaken  (as  I  already  ac- 
knowledged it  does)  a  memory  for  detached  obfer- 
vations,  or  for  infulated  facls,  it  will  be  found  the 
only  effedual  method  of  fixing  in  it  permanently, 
thofe  acquifitions  which  involve  long  procefTes  of 
reafoning. 

When  we  are  employed  in  inquiries  of  our  own, 
the  conclufions  which  we  form  make  a  much  deeper 
and  more  lailing  imprefTion  on  the  memory,  than 
any  knowledge  which  we  imbibe  pafilvely  from  an- 
other. This  is  undoubtedly  owing,  in  part,  to  the 
efFecl  which  the  ardour  of  difcovery  has,  in  roufing' 
the  activity  of  the  mind,  and  fixing  its  attention  j 
but  I  apprehend  it  is  chiefly  to  be  afcribed  to  this, 
that  when  we  follow  out  a  train  of  thinking  of  our 
own,  our  ideas  are  arranged  in  that  order  which  is 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  S95 

moft  agreeable  to  our  prevailing  habits  of  afTociation. 
The  only  method  of  putting  our  acquired  knowledge 
on  a  level,  in  this  refpedl,  with  our  original  fpecula- 
tions,  is,  after  making  ourfelves  acquainted  with  our 
author's  ideas,  to  (ludy  the  fubjecl  over  again  in  our 
own  way  ;    to  paufe,  from  time  to   time,  in  the 
courfe  of  our  reading,  in  order  to  confider  what  we 
have  gained  ;  to  recolle<5t  what  the  proportions  are, 
which  the  author  wifhes  to  eftablifh,  and  to  exam- 
ine the  different  proofs  which  he  employs  to  fupport 
them.     In  making  fuch  an  experiment,  we  com- 
monly find,  that  the  different  fleps  of  the  procefs  ar- 
range themfelves  in  our  minds,  in  a  manner  different 
from  that  in  which  the  author  has  ftated  them  ;  and 
that,   while  his  argument  teems,    in   fome  places, 
obfcure,  from  its  concifenefs  ;  it  is  tedious  in  others, 
from  being  unneceffarily  expanded.     When  we  have 
reduced  the  reafoning  to  that  form,  which  appears 
to  ourfelves  to  be  the  moft  natural  and  fatisfadory, 
we  may  conclude  with  certainty,  not  that  this  form 
is  better  in  itfelf  than  another,  but  that  it  is  the  beft 
adapted  to  our  memory.     Such  reaibnings,  there- 
fore, as  we  have  occafion  frequently  to  apply,  either 
in  the  bufinefs  of  life,  or  in  the  courfe  of  our  fludies, 
it  is  of  importance  to  us  to  commit  to  writing,  in  a 
language  and  in  an  order  of  our  own  ;  and  if,  at  any 
time,  we  find  it  neceffary  to  refrefh  our  recollection 
on  the  fubjed:,  to  have  recourfe  to  our  own  compo- 
fitton,  in  preference  to  that  of  any  other  author.     - 
That  the  plan  of  reading  which  is  commonly  fol- 
lowed is  very  different  from  that  which  I  have  been 
recommending,  will  not  be  difputed.     Moll  people 
read  merely  to  pafs  an  idle  hour,  or  to  pleafe  them- 
felves with  the  idea  of  employment,  while  their  indo- 
lence prevents  them  from  any  aftive  exertion  ;  and 
a  confiderable  number  with  a  view  to  the  difplay 
which  they  are  afterwards  to  make  of  their  literary' 
acquifitions.     From  whiclifoever  of  thefe  motives  a 


396  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

perfon  is  led  to  the  perufal  of  books,  it  is  hardly 
poflible  that  he  can  derive  from  them  any  material 
advantage.  If  he  reads  merely  from  indolence,  the 
ideas  which  pafs  through  his  mind  will  probably  leave 
little  or  no  impreflion  ;  and  if  he  reads  from  vanity, 
he  will  be  more  anxious  to  felect  ftriking  partic- 
ulars in  the  matter  or  expreflion,  than  to  leize  the 
fpirit  and  fcope  of  the  author's  reafoning,  or  to  ex- 
amine how  far  he  has  made  2Lny  additions  to  the 
ftock  of  ufeful  and  folid  knowledge.  "  Though  it 
"  is  fcarce  pollibie,"  fays  Dr.  Butler,*  "  to  avoid 
*'  judging,  in  fome  way  or  other,  of  almoft  every 
''  thing  which  offers  itfelf  to  one's  thoughts,  yet  it 
*'  is  certain,  that  many  perfons,  from  different  caufes, 
"  never  exercife  their  judgment  upon  what  comes 
**  before  them, in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  be  able  to  deter- 
"  mine  how  far  it  be  conclufive.  They  are  perhaps 
*'  entertained  with  fome  things,  not  fo  with  others ; 
*'  they  like,  and  they  diflike ;  but  whether  that  which 
*'  is  propofed  to  bs  made  out,  be  really  made  out  or 
*'  not  ;  whether  a  matter  be  ftated  according  to  the 
"  real  truth  of  the  cafe  feems,  to  the  generality  of  peo- 
"  pie,  a  circumftance  of  little  or  no  importance.  Ar- 
"  guments  are  often  wanted  for  fome  accidental  pur- 
*'  pofe  ;  but  proof,  as  fuch,  is  what  they  never  want, 
*'  for  their  own  fatisfaclion  of  mind,  or  conduct  in 
*'  life.  Not  to  mention  the  multitudes  who  read 
"  merely  for  the  fake  of  talking,  or  to  qualify  them- 
/*^  leives  for  the  world,  c>r  fome  fuch  kind  of  reafons  ; 
"  there  are  even  of  the  few  who  read  for  their  own 
*'  entertainment,  and  have  a  real  curiofity  to  fee 
**  what  is  faid,  feveral,  which  is  aftonilhing,  who 
"  have  no  fort  of  curiofity,  to  fee  what  is  true  : 
*'  I  fay  c**jrioiity,  becaufe  it  is  too  obvious  to  be 
"  mentioned  how  much  that  religious  and  facred  at- 
"  tention  which  is  due  to  truth,  and  to  the  impor- 

*  See  the  Preface  to  bis  Sermons. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  397 

"  tant  queftion,  what  is  the  rule  of  life,  is  loft  out 
*'  of  the  world. 

"  For  the  fake  of  this  whole  clafs  of  readers,  for 
"  they  are  of  different  capacities,  different  kinds,  and 
"  get  into  this  way  froni  different  occafions,  I  have 
**  often  wifhed  that  it  had  been  the  cuftom  to  lay 
"  before  people  nothing  in  matters  of  argument  but 
^'  premifes,  and  leave  them  to  draw  conclufions 
"  themfelves ;  which,  although,  it  could  not  be  done 
"  in  all  cafes,  might  in  many. 

"  The  great  number  of  books  and  papers  of  a- 
"  raufement,  which,  of  one  kind  or  another,  daily 
••^  come  in  one's  way,  have  in  part  occafioned,  and 
*^  moft  perfectly  fall  in  with  and  humor  this  idle 
'^  way  of  reading  and  confidering  things.  By  this 
"  means,  time,  even  in  folitude,  is  happily  got  rid  of 
"  without  the  pain  of  attention  ;  neither  is  any  part 
"  of  it  more  put  to  the  account  of  idlenefs ;  one 
"  can  fcarce  forbear  faying,  is  fpent  with  lefs  thought, 
"  than  great  part  of  that  which  is  fpent  in  reading." 

If  the  plan  of  ftudy  which  I  formerly  defcribed 
were  adopted,  it  would  undoubtedly  diminiih  very 
much  the  number  of  books  which  it  would  be  pof- 
fible  to  turn  over  ;  but  I  am  convinced  that  it  would 
add  greatly  to  the  flock  of  ufeful  and  fohd  knowl- 
edge ;  and  by  rendering  our  acquired  ideas  in  fome 
meafure  our  own,  would  give  us  a  more  ready  and 
practical  command  of  them  :  not  to  mention,  that 
if  we  are  pofTefled  of  any  inventive  powers,  fuch  ex- 
ercifes  would  continually  furnifli  them  with  art  op- 
portunity of  difplaying  themfelves  upon  all  the  dif. 
ferent  fubjecls  which  may  pafs  under  our  review. 

Nothing,  in  truth,  has  fuch  a  tendency  to  weaken, 
not  only  the  powers  of  invention,  but  the  intelleclu- 
al  powers  in  general,  as  a  habit  of  extenfive  and  va- 
rious reading,  without  reflection.  The  activity  and 
force  of  the  mind  are  gradually  impaired,  in  confe- 
quence  of  difufej    and  not  unfrequently  all  our 


398  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

principles  and  opinions  come  to  be  loft,  in  the  infift- 
ite  niultiplicity  and  difcordancy  of  our  acquired 
ideas. 

By  confining  our  ambition  to  purfue  the  truth 
with  modefty  and  candor,  and  learning  to  value  our 
acquifitions  only  as  far  as  they  contribute  to  make 
us  wV'?r  ind  happier,  we  m  ly  perhaps  be  obliged  to 
facrifice  the  temporary  admiration  of  the  common 
difpenfers  of  literary  fame  ;  but  we  may  reft  aflur- 
cd,  that  it  is  in  this  way  only  we  can  hope  to  make 
real  pro.grefs  in  knowledge,  or  to  enrich  the  world 
with  ufeful  inventions. 

"  It  requires  courage,  indeed,"  (as  Helvetius  has 
remarked,)  "  to  remain  iu,norant  of  thofe  ufelefs  fub- 
*'  jecls  which  are  generally  valued  ;'*  but  it  is  a  cour- 
age necelTary  to  men  who  either  love  the  truth,  or 
who  afpire  to  eftabiifh  a  permanent  reputation. 

SECTION  VI. 
Continuation  of  the  fame  Subjed. — Of  Artificial  Memory* 

BY  an  Artificial  Memory  is  meant,  a  method  of 
conneding  in  the  mind,  things  difficult  to  be  remem- 
bered, with  things  eafily  remembered  ;  fo  as  to  ena- 
ble it  to  retain,  and  to  recollect  the  former  by  means 
of  the  latter.  For  this  purpofe,  various  contrivan- 
ces have  been  propofed,  but  I  think  the  foregoing 
definition  applies  to  all  of  them. 

Some  forts  of  artificial  memory  are  intended  to 
affift  the  natural  powers  of  the  human  mind  on  par- 
ticular occafions,  which  require  a  more  than  ordina- 
ry effort  of  recollection  ;  for  example,  to  affift  a 
public  fpeaker  to  recoiled:  the  arrarjgement  of  a  long 
difcourfe.  Others  have  been  devifed  with  a  view 
to  enable  us  to  extend  the  circle  of  our  acquired 
knowledge,  and  to  give  us  a  more  ready  command 
of  all  the  various  particulars  of  our  information. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  395i> 

The  topical  Memory,  fo  much  celebrated  among 
the  ancient  rhetoricians,  comes  under  the  former 
defcription. 

I  already  remarked,  the  efFed  of  fenfible  objeds 
in  recalling  to  the  mind  the  ideas  with  which  it  hap- 
pened to  be  occupied,  at  the  time  when  thefe  objects 
were  formerly  perceived.     In  travelling  along  a  road 
the  fight  of  the  more  remarkable  fcenes   we  meet 
with,  frequently  puts  us  in  mind  of  the  fubjecls  we 
were  thinking  or  talking  of  when  we  lafl  faw  them. 
Such  fads,  which  are  perfectly  familiar  even  to  the 
vulgar,  might  very  naturally  fuggeft  the  poflibility 
of  affifting  the  memory,  by  eftabiifhing  a  connection 
between  the  ideas  we  wifli  to  remember,  and  cer- 
tain fenfible  objects,  which  have   been  found  from 
experience  to  make  a  permanent  impreffion  on  the 
mind.*  I  have  been  told  of  a  young  woman,  in  a  ve- 
ry low  rank  in  life,  who  contrived  a  method  of  com- 
mitting to  memory  the  fermons  which  fhe  was  ac- 
cuftomed  to  hear,  by  fixing  her  attention  during  the 
different  heads  of  the  difcourfe,  on  different  com- 
partments of  the  roof  of  the  church  ;  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner, as  that,  when  fhe  afterwards  faw  the  roof,  or 
recollected   the   order  in  which  its   compartments 
were  difpofed,  (he  recollected  the  method  which  the 
preacher  had  obferved  in  treating  his  fubject.    This 
contrivance  was  perfectly  analogous  to  the  topical 
memory  of  the  ancients;    an  art  which,  whatever 
be  the  opinion  we  entertain  of  its  ufe,  is  certainly 
entitled,  in  a  high  degree,  to  the  praife  of  ingenui- 
Suppofe that  I  were  to  fix  in  my  memory  the  dif- 

*  "  Cum  in  loca  aliqua  post  tempus  reversi  sumu«,  non  ipsa  ag- 
<«  noscimus  tantum,  sed  etiam,  quae  in  his  fecerimus,  reminiscimur, 
**  per^oneeque  subeunt,  nonunquam  tacitae  quoque  cogitationes  in 
«  mentem  reverluntur.  Nata  est  igitur,  ut  in  plerisque,  ars  ab  ex- 
«'  perimento." 

tiLi>cT.  Liit.  Or  at.  lib.  xi.  cap.  2. 


400  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ferent  apartments  in  feme  very  large  building,  and 
that  I  had  accuftomed  myfelf  to  think  of  thefe  a- 
partments  always  in  the  fame  invariable  order.  Sup- 
pofe  farther,  that,  in  preparing  myfelf  for  a  public 
difcourfe,  in  which  T  had  occailon  to  treat  of  a  great 
variety  of  particulars,  I  was  anxious  to  fix  in  my 
memory  the  order  I  propofed  to  obferve  in  the  com- 
munication of  my  ideas.  It  is  evident,  that  by  a 
proper  divifion  of  my  fubjed  into  heads,  and  by 
conneding  each  head  with  a  particular  apartment^ 
(which  1  could  ealily  do,  by  conceiving  myfelf  to 
be  fitting  in  the  apartment  while  I  was  fludying  the 
part  of  my  difcourfe  I  meant  to  conned  w^ith  it,)  the 
habitual  order  in  which  thefe  apartments  occurred 
to  my  thoughts,  would  prefent  to  me,  in  their  prop- 
er arrangement,  and  without  any  effort  on  my  part^ 
the  ideas  of  which  I  was  to  treat.  It  is  alfo  obvious; 
that  a  very  little  pradice  would  enable  me  to  avail 
myfelf  of  this  contrivance,  without  any  embarrafT- 
ment  or  diftradion  of  my  attention.* 

As  to  the  utility  of  this  art,  it  appears  to  me  to 
depend  entirely  on  the  particular  objed  which  we 
fuppofe  the  fpeaker  to  have  in  view  ;  whether,  as 
was  too  often  the  cafe  with  the  ancient  rhetoricians, 
to  bewilder  a  judge,  and  to  filence  an  adverfary  ;  or 
fairly  and  candidly  to  lead  an  audience  to  the  truth. 
On  the  former  fuppofition,  nothing  can  poffibly  give 
an  orator  a  greater  fuperiority,  than  the  poflellion 

*  In  so  far  as  it  was  the  object  of  this  species  of  artificial  mem- 
ory to  assist  on  orator  in  recollecting  the  plan  and  arrangennent  of 
his  discourse,  the  accounts  of  it  which  are  given  by  the  ancient 
rhetoricians  are  abundantly  satisfactory.  It  appears,  however,  that 
its  use  was  more  extensive;  and  that  it  was  so  contrived,  as  to  fa- 
cilitate the  recollection  of  a  premeditated  composition.  In  what 
manner  this  was  done,  it  is  not  easy  to  conjecture  from  the  imper- 
fect explanations  of  the  art,  which  have  been  transmitted  to  mod- 
ern times.  The  reader  may  consult  Cicero  de  Orat.  lib.  ii.  cap. 
S7,  88.  Rhetor,  ad  Herenniuvij  lib.  iii.  cap.  16.  et  sccji. — Qv:^C'njfc. 
luit,  Orat.  lib,  xi.  cap.  2. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  401 

of  a  fecret,  which,  while  it  enables  him  to  exprefs 
himfelf  with  facility  and  the  appearance  of  method, 
puts  it  in  his  power,  at  the  fan^e  time,  to  difpofe  his 
arguments  and  his  facts,  in  whatever  order  he  judg- 
es to  be  the  moft  proper  to  rniflead  the  judgment, 
and  to  perplex  the  memory,  of  thofe  whom  he  ad- 
dreffes.  And  fuch,  it  is  manifeft,  is  the  effect,  not 
only  of  the  topical  memory  of  the  ancients,  but  of 
all  other  contrivances  which  aid  the  recoUedion,  up- 
on any  principle  different  from  the  natural  and  lo- 
gical arrangement  of  our  ideas. 

To  thofe  on  the  other  hand,  who  fpeak  with  a  view 
to  convince  or  to  inform  others,  it  is  of  confequence 
that  the  topics  which  they  mean  to  illuftrate,  fhould 
be  arranged  in  an  order  equally  favorable  to  their 
own  recolledion  and  to  that  of  their  hearers.  For 
this  purp-^fe,  nothing  is  effedual,  but  that  method 
which  is  fuggefted  by  the  order  of  their  own  invef- 
tigations  ;  a  method  which  leads  the  mind  from  one 
idea  to  another,  either  by  means  of  obvious  and 
ftriking  alfociations,  or  by  thofe  relations  which 
connect  the  different  ileps  of  a  clear  and  accurate 
proceis  of  reafoning.  It  is  thus  only  that  the  atten- 
tion of  an  audience  can  be  completely  and  inceffant- 
ly  engaged,  and  that  the  lubflance  of  a  long  dif- 
courfe  can  be  remembered  without  effort.  And  it 
is  thus  only  that  a  fpeaker,  after  a  mature  confider- 
ation  of  his  fubjedl,  can  poffefs  a  juft  confidence  in 
his  own  powers  of  recolledion,  in  Hating  all  the 
different  premifes  which  lead  to  ihe  conclufion  he 
wifhes  to  eftabiifli. 

In  modern  times,  fuch  contrivances  have  been  ve- 
ry little,  if  at  all,  made  ufe  of  by  public  Ipe.ikers; 
but  various  ingenious  attempts  have  been  made,  to 
afliff  the  memory,  in  acquiring  and  retaining  thofe 
branches  of  knowledge  which  it  has  been  fuppoied 
neceffary  for  a  fcholar  to  carry  always  about  wltli 
him  ;  and  which,  at  the  fame  time,  from  the  num- 
C  cc 


402  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ber  of  particular  details  which  they  involve,  are  not 
calculated,  of  themfelves,  to  make  a  very  lafting  im- 
preflion  on  the  mind.  Of  this  fort  is  the  Menioria 
Technica  of  Mr.  Grey,  in  vv'hich  a  great  deal  of  his- 
torical, chronological  and  geographical  kowledge  is 
comprifed  in  a  fet  of  verfes,  which  the  ftudent  is  fup- 
pofed  to  make  as  familiar  to  himfelf  as  fchool-boys 
do  the  rules  of  grammar.  Thefe  verfes  are,  in  gen- 
eral, a  mere  affemblage  of  proper  names,  difpofed  in 
a  rude  fort  of  meafure  ;  fome  flight  alterations  be- 
ing occafionally  made  on  the  final  fyllables  of  the 
words,  fo  as  to  be  fignificant  (according  to  certain 
principles  laid  down  in  the  beginning  of  the  work) 
of  important  dates,  or  of  other  particulars  which  it 
appeared  to  the  author  ufeful  to  affociate  with  the 
names. 

I  have  heard  very  oppofite  opinions  w**th  refped: 
to  the  utility  of  this  ingenious  fyftem.  The  prevail- 
ing opinion  is,  I  believe,  againft  it ;  although  it  has 
been  mentioned  in  terras  of  high  approbation  by 
fome  writers  of  eminence.  Dr.  Prieftley,  whofe 
judgment,  in  matters  of  this  fort,  is  certainly  enti- 
tled to  refpect,  has  fald,  that  "  it  is  a  method  fo  ea- 
"  fiiy  learned,  and  which  may  be  of  fo  much  ufe  in 
*'  recolleding  dates,  when  other  methods  are  not  at 
"  hand,  that  he  thinks  all  perfons  of  a  liberal  educa- 
"  tion  inexcufable,  who  will  not  take  the  fmall  de- 
"  gree  of  pains  that  is  neceffary  to  make  themfelves 
"  matters  of  it;  or  who  think  any  thing  mean,  or 
''  unworthy  of  their  notice,  which  is  fo  ufeful  and 
"  convenient."* 

In  judging  of  the  utility  of  this,  or  of  any  other 
contrivance  of  the  fame  kind,  to  a  particular  perfon, 
a  great  deal  mufl  depend  on  the  fpecies  of  memory 
which  he  has  received  from  nature,  or  has  acquired 
in  the  courfe  of  his  early  education.  Some  men,  as 
I  already  remarked,)  efpecially  among  thofe  who 
*  Lectures  on  History,  p.  15T, 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIKD,  403 

have  been  habitually  exercifed  in  childhood  in  get- 
ting by  heart  grammar  rules,)  have  an  extraordina- 
ry facility  in  acquiring  and  retaining  the  mofl  bar- 
barous and  the  moft  infignificant  verfes ;  which  an- 
other perfon  would  find  as  difficult  to  remember,  as 
the  geographical  and  chronological  details  of  which 
it  is  the  objed  of  this  art  to  relieve  the  memory. 
Allowing,  therefore,  the  general  utility  of  the  art, 
no  one  method,  perhaps  is  entitled,  to  an  exclufive 
preference  ;  as  one  contrivance  may  be  beft  fuited 
to  the  fiiculties  of  one  perfon,  and  a  very  different 
one  to  thofe  of  another. 

One  important  objedion  applies  to  all  of  them, 
that  they  accuftom  the  mind  to  aflbciate  ideas  by  ac- 
cidental aud  arbitrary  connexions  ;  and,  therefore, 
how  much  foever  they  may  contribute  in  tlie  courfc 
of  converfation,  to  an  oftentatious  difplay  of  acquir- 
ed knowledge,  they  are,  perhaps,  of  little  real  fer- 
vice  to  us,  when  we  are  feriouily  engaged  in  the 
purfuit  of  truth.  I  own,  too,  I  am  very  doubtful 
with  refpecl  to  the  utility  of  a  great  part  of  that  in- 
formation which  they  are  commonly  employed  to 
impreft  on  the  memory,  and  on  which  the  generali- 
ty of  learned  men  are  difpofed  to  value  themfelves. 
It  certainly  is  of  no  ufe,  but  in  fo  far  as  it  is  fubfervi- 
ent  to  the  gratification  of  their  vanity  ;  and  the  ac- 
quifition  of  it  confumes  a  great  deal  of  time  and  at- 
tention, which  might  have  been  employed  in  extend- 
ing the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge.  To  thofe, 
however,  who  are  of  a  different  opinion,  fuch  con- 
trivances as  Mr.  Grey's  may  be  extremely  ufeful : 
and  to  all  men  they  may  be  of  fervice,  in  fixing  in 
the  memory  thofe  infuiated  and  uninterefling  par- 
ticulars, which  it  is  either  neceffary  for  them  to  bs 
acquainted  with,  from  their  fituation  ;  or  which  cuf- 
tom  has  rendered,  in  the  conmion  opinion,  eiTential 
branches  of  a  liberal  education.  I  w^ould,  in  particu- 
lar, recommend  this  author's  method  of  recolleding 


404  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

dates,  by  fubftituting  letters  for  the  numeral  cy- 
phers ;  and  forming  theie  letters  into  words,  and 
the  words  into  verles.  I  have  found  it,  at  leaft  in 
my  own  cafe,  the  moft  effeclual  of  all  fuch  contrivan^ 
ces  of  which  I  have  had  exoerience. 


SECTION  vn. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Std)jed. — Importance  of  making 
a  preper  Se'edion  among  the  Objects  of  our  Knowledge^ 
in  order  to  derive  Advantage  from  the  Acquifttions  of 

Memory, 

THE  cultivation  of  Memory,  with  all  the  helps 
that  we  can  derive  to  it  from  art,  will  be  of  little  ufe 
to  us  unlefs  w^e  make  a  proper  felection  of  the  par- 
ticulars to  be  remembered.  Such  a  felection  is  ne- 
celTary  to  enable  us  to  profit  by  reading  ;  and  ftiil 
more  fo,  to  enable  us  to  profit  by  obfervation,  to 
wh'ch  every  man  is  indebted  for  by  far  the  moft  val- 
uable  part  of  his  knowledge. 

When  we  firft  enter  on  any  new  literary  purfuit, 
we  commonly  find  our  efforts  of  attention  painful 
and  unfatisfadlory.  We  have  no  difcrimination  in 
our  curiofity  ;  and  by  grafping  at  every  thing,  we 
fail  in  making  thofe  moderate  acquifitions  which  are 
fuited  to  our  limited  faculties.  As  our  knowledge 
extends,  we  learn  to  know  what  particulars  are  like- 
ly to  be  of  ufe  to  us  ;  and  acquire  a  habit  of  dired- 
ing  our  examination  to  thefe,  without  difiracling  the 
attention  with  others.  It  is  partly  owing  to  a  fimi- 
3ar  circumftance,  that  moft  readers  complain  of  a  de- 
fect of  memory,  when  they  firft  enter  ^n  the  ftudy 
of  hiftory.  They  cannot  fep..*  ate  important  from 
trifling  fads,  and  find  themlelves  unable  to  retain 
any  thing,  from  their  anxiety  to  fecure  the  whole. 

In  order  to  give  a  proper  diredion  to  our  atten- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  405 

tion  in  the  courfe  of  our  ftudles,  it  is  ufeful,  before 
engaging  in  particular  purfuits,  to  acquire  as  famil- 
iar an  acquaintance  as  pofTible  with  the  great  outlines 
of  the  different  branches  of  fcience  ;  with  the  moft 
important  conclufions  which  have  hitherto  been 
formed  in  them,  and  with  the  moft  important  defid- 
erata  which  remain  to  be  fupplied.  In  the  cafe  too 
of  thofe  parts  of  knowledge,  which  are  not  yet  ripe 
for  the  formation  of  philofophical  fyttems,  it  may 
be  of  ufe  to  ftudy  the  various  hypothetical  theories 
which  have  been  propofed  for  connecting  together 
and  arranging  the  phenomena.  By  fuch  general 
views  alone  we  can  prevent  ourfelves  from  being  loft, 
amidft  a  labyrinth  of  particulars,  or  can  engage  in  a 
courfe  of  extenfive  and  various  reading,  with  an  en- 
lightened and  difcriminating  attention.  While  they 
withdraw  our  notice  from  barren  and  infulated  fa<5ls, 
they  direct  it  to  fuch  as  tend  to  illutlrate  principles 
which  have  either  been  already  eftablilhed,  or  which^ 
from  having  that  degree  of  connexion  among  them- 
felves,  which  is  ncceffary  to  give  plaufibility  to  a  hy- 
pothetical theory,  are  likely  to  furnifli,  in  time,  the 
materials  of  a  jufter  fyiiem. 

Some  of  the  followers  of  Lord  Bacon  have,  I 
think,  been  led,  in  their  zeal  for  the  method  of  in- 
duction,  to  cenfure  hypothetical  theories  with  too 
great  a  degree  of  feverity.  Such  theories  have  cer- 
tainly been  frequently  of  ufe,  in  putting  philofophers 
upon  the  road  of  difcovery.  Indeed,  it  has  proba- 
bly been  in  this  way,  that  moft  difcoveries  have  been 
made  ;  for  although  a  knowledge  of  fads  muft  be 
prior  to  the  formation  of  a  juft  theory,  yet  a  hypo- 
thetical theory  is  generally  our  beft  guide  to  the 
knowledge  of  ufeful  facts.  If  a  man,  without  for- 
ming to  himfelf  any  conjecture  concerning  the  un- 
known laws  of  nature,  were  to  fet  himfelf  merely  to 
accumulate  fads  at  random,  he  might,  perhaps,  ftum- 
ble  upon  feme  important  difcovery  j  but  by  far  the 


406  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

greater  p:irt  of  his  labors  would  be  wholly  ufelefs. 
Every  philofophical  inquirer,  before  he  begins  a  fet 
of  experiments,  has  fome  general  principle  in  his 
view,  which  he  fufpecls  to  be  a  law  of  nature  :*  and 
although  his  conjedlures  may  be  often  wrong,  yet 
they  ferve  to  give  his  inquiries  a  particular  direction, 
and  to  bring  under  his  eye  a  number  of  facts  which 
have  a  certain  relation  to  each  other.  It  has  been 
often  remarked,  that  the  attempts  to  difcover  the 
phiio fcipher's  ftone,  and  the  quadrature  of  the  circle, 
have  led  to  many  ufeful  difcoveries  in  chemiflry  and 
mathematics.  And  they  have  plainly  done  fo,  mere- 
ly by  limiiting  the  field  of  obfervation  and  inquiry, 
and  checking  that  indifcriminate  and  defultory  at- 
tention which  is  fo  natural  to  an  indolent  mind.  A 
hypothetical  theory,  however  erroneous,  may  an- 
fwer  a  fimilar  purpofe.  "  Prudens  interrogatio,'* 
(fays  Lord  Bacon,)  "  eft  dimidium  fcientias.  Vaga 
"  enim  expericntia  et  fe  tantum  fequens  mera  palpa- 
*'  tio  eft,  et  homines  potius  ftupefacit  quam  infor- 
"  mat  "  What,  indeed,  are  Newton's  queries,  but 
fo  many  hypothefes  which  are  propof^d  as  fubjects 
of  examination  to  philofophers  ?  And  did  not  even 
the  great  doctrine  of  gravitation  take  its  firft  rife 
from  a  fortunate  conjedure  ? 

While,  therefore,  we  maintain  with  the  followers  of 
Bacon,  that  no  theory  is  to  be  admitted  as  proved, 
any  farther  than  it  is  fupported  by  facts,  we  (hould, 
at  the  fame  time,  acknowledge  our  obligations  to 
thofe  writers  who  hazard  their  conjectures  to  the 
world  with  modefty  and  diffidence.  And  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  add,  that  men  of  a  fyftematizing 

*  «  Recte  siqiiidem  Piato,  "  Qui  aliquid  quaprit,  id  ipsum,  quo4 
•■'  quaerit,  general!  quadam  notions  comprehendit :  aliter,  qui  fieri 
"  potest,  ut  iUud,  cmn  fuerit  inventum,  agnoscat  ?"  Idcirco  quo 
-'-  ampiior  et  certior  fuerit  anticipatio  nostra  ;  eo  magis  directa  et 
'-  compendiosa  erit  investigatio.'* 

De  Aug.  Sclent,  lib  V.  cap.  3. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  407 

turn  are  not  now  fo  ufelefs  as  formerly  ;  for  we  are 
already  pofTefled  of  a  great  ftock  of  fadls ;  and  there 
is  fcarcely  any  theory  fo  bad  as  not  to  bring  togeth- 
er a  number  of  particulars  which  have  a  certain  de- 
gree of  relation  or  analogy  to  each  other. 

The  foregoing  remarks  are  applicable  to  all  our 
various  (Indies  ;  whether  they  are  condudled  in  the 
way  of  reading,  or  of  obfervation.  From  neither  of 
thefe  two  fources  of  information  can  we  hope  to  de- 
rive much  advantage,  unlefs  we  have  fome  general 
principles  to  direc^t  our  attention  to  proper  objeds.. 

With  refpect  to  obfervation,  fome  farther  cautions 
may  be  ufeful  ;  for  in  guarding  againft  an  indifcrim- 
inate  accumulation  of  particulars,  it  is  poflible  to  fail 
into  the  oppofite  extreme,  and  to  acquire  a  habit  of 
inattention  to  the  phenomena  which  prefent  them- 
felves  to  our  fenfes.  The  former  is  the  error  of  men 
of  little  education  ;  the  latter  is  more  common  a« 
mong  men  of  retirement  and  ftudy. 

One  of  the  chief  efFeds  of  a  liberal  education,  is 
to  enable  us  to  withdraw  our  attention  frpm  the 
prefent  objeds  of  the  perceptions,  and  to  dwell  at 
pleafure  on  the  pad,  the  abfent,  or  the  future.  But 
when  we  are  led  to  carry  thefe  efforts  to  an  excefs, 
either  from  a  warm  and  romantic  imagination,  or 
from  an  anxious  and  fanguine  temper,  it  is  eafy  to 
fee  that  the  power  of  obfervation  is  likely  to  be  weak- 
ened,  and  habits  of  inattention  to  be  contraded. — 
The  fame  effect  may  be  produced  by  too  early  an  in- 
dulgence in  philofophical  purfuits,  before  the  mind 
has  been  prepared  for  the  ftudy  of  general  truths  by 
exercifmg  its  faculties  among  particular  objeds,  and 
particular  occurrences.  In  this  way,  it  contracts  an 
averfion  to  the  examination  of  details,  from  the 
pleafure  which  it  has  experienced  in  the  contempla- 
tion or  in  the  difcovery  of  general  principles.  Both 
of  thefe  turns  of  thought,  however,  preluppofe  a 
certain  degree  of  obfervation  j  for  the  materials  of 


408  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ioiagination  are  fapplied  by  the  fenfes  ;  and  the  gen- 
eral truths  which  occupy*  the  philofopher,  would  be 
w^holly  unintelligible  to  him,  if  he  was  a  total  ftran- 
ger  to  all  experience  with  reipe£l  to  the  courfe  of  na- 
ture and  of  human  life.  The  obfervations,  indeed, 
which  are  made  by  men  of  a  warm  imagination,  are 
likely  to  be  inaccurate  and  fallacious  ;  and  thofe  of 
the  fpeculative  philofopher  are  frequently  carried  no 
farther  than  is  neceflary  to  enable  him  to  compre- 
hend the  terms  which  relate  to  the  fubjecls  of  his 
reafoning  ;  but  both  the  one  and  the  other  muft 
have  looked  abroad  occaiionally  at  nature,  and  at 
the  world  ;  if  not  to  afcertain  facls  by  aclual  examina- 
tion, at  leaft  to  ftore  their  minds  with  ideas. 

The  metaphyfician,  whofe  attention  is  directed  to 
the  faculties  and  operations  of  the  mind,  is  the  only- 
man  who  poiTefles  within  himfelf  the  materials  of 
liis  fpeculations  and  rcafonings.  It  is  accordingly- 
among  this  clafs  of  literary  men,  that  habits  of  inat- 
tention to  things  external  have  been  carried  to  the 
greateil  extreme.  <■■ 

It  is  obferved  by  Dr.  Reid,  that  the  power  of  reflec- 
tion, (by  which  he  means  the  power  of  attending  to 
the  fubjecls  of  our  concioufnefs,)  is  the  laft  of  our  in- 
telledual  faculties  which  unfolds  itfelf  ;  and  that  in 
the  greater  part  of  mankind  it  never  unfolds  itfelf  at 
all.  It  is  a  power,  indeed,  which  being  fubfervient 
merely  to  the  gratification  of  metaphyseal  curiofity, 
it  is  not  elTentially  neceflary  for  us  to  poflefs,  in  any 
coftfiderable  degree.  The  power  of  obfervation,  on 
the  other  hand,  which  is  necefl^u'y  for  the  preferva- 
tion  even  of  our  animal  exigence,  diicovers  itfelf 
in  infants  long  before  they  attain  the  ufe  of  fpeech  ;  or 
rather,  I  fhould  have  faid,  as  foon  as  they  come  into 
the  world  :  and  where  nature  is  allowed  free  fcope, 
it  continues  active  and  vigorous  through  life.  Jt 
was  plainly  the  intention  of  nature,  that  in  infancy 
and  youth  it  Ihould  occupy  the  mind  almoft  cxclu- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  409 

lively,  and  that  we  fliould  acquire  all  our  neceffary 
information  before  engaging  in  fpeculations  which 
are  lefs  eflential  :  and  accordingly  this  is  the  hiftory 
of  the  intelledual  progrefs,  in  by  far  the  greater 
number  of  individuals.  In  confequence  of  this,  the 
difficulty  of  metaphyfical  refearches  is  undoubtedly 
much  increafed  ;  for  the  mind  being  conftantly  oc- 
cupied in  the  earlier  part  of  life  about  the  proper- 
ties and  laws  of  matter,  acquires  habits  of  inatten- 
tion to  the  fubjects  of  confcioufnefs,  which  are  not 
to  be  furmounted,  without  a  degree  of  patience  and 
perfeverance  of  which  few  men  are  capable  :  but 
the  inconvenience  would  evidently  have  been  greatly 
increafed,  if  the  order  of  nature  had,  in  this  refpeft, 
been  reverfed,  and  if  the  curiofity  had  been  excited 
at  as  early  a  period,  by  the  phenomena  of  the  intel- 
lectual world,  as  by  thofe  of  the  material.  Of  what 
would  have  happened  on  this  fuppofition,  we  may 
form  a  judgment  from  thofe  men  who,  in  ( onfe- 
quence  of  an  exceffive  indulgence  in  metaphyfical 
purfuits,  have  weakened,  to  an  unnatural  degree, 
their  capacity  of  attending  to  external  objedls  and 
occurrences.  Few  metaphyficians,  perhaps,  are  to 
be  found,  who  are  not  deficient  in  the  power  of  ob- 
fervation  :  for,  although  a  tafte  for  fuch  abftracb 
fpeculations  is  far  from  being  common,  it  is  more 
apt,  perhaps,  than  any  other,  when  it  has  once  been 
formed,  to  take  an  exclufive  hold  of  the  mind,  and 
to  {hut  up  the  other  lources  of  intelledual  improve- 
ment. As  the  metaphyfician  carries  within  himfelf 
the  materials  of  his  reafoning,  he  is  not  under  a  ne- 
ceffity  of  looking  abroad  for  fubjecls  of  fpeculation 
or  amufement  ;  and  unlefs  he  be  very  careful  to 
guard  againft  the  efFeds  of  his  favorite  purfuits,  he 
is  in  more  danger  than  literary  men  of  any  other 
denomination,  to  lofe  all  intereft  about  the  common 
and  proper  objects  of  human  curiofity. 

Dod 


410  ELEMENTS  Of  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

To  prevent  any  danger  from  this  quarter,  I  appre- 
hend that  the  lludy  of  the  mind  Ihould  form  the 
iaft  branch  of  the  education  of  yi)uth  ;  an  order 
which  nature  herfelf  feems  to  point  out,  by  what  I 
have  already  remarked,  with  refpecl  to  the  devel- 
opement  of  our  facuhies.  After  the  underftanding 
is  well  ftored  with  particular  fads,  and  has  been  con- 
verfant  with  particular  fcientific  purfuits,it  will  be  en- 
abled to  fpecuhte  concerning  its  own  powers  with 
additional  advantage,  and  will  run  no  hazard  of  in- 
dulging too  far  in  fuch  inquiries.  Nothing  can  be 
more  abfurd,  on  this  as  well  as  on  many  other  ac- 
counts, than  the  common  practice  which  is  followed 
in  our  univerfities,  of  beginning  a  courfe  of  philofoph- 
ical  education  with  the  ftudy  of  logic.  If  this  order 
were  completely  reverfed  ;  and  if  the  ftudy  of  logic 
were  delayed  till  after  the  mind  of  the  ft:udent  was 
well  ftored  with  particular  fadls  in  phyiics,  in  chem- 
iftry,  in  natural  and  civil  hiftory  ;  his  attention 
might  be^  led  with  the  moft  important  advantage, 
and  without  any  danger  to  his  power  of  obfervation^ 
to  an  examination  of  his  own  faculties  ;  which,  be- 
fidcs  opening  to  him  a  new  and  pleafing  field  of 
fpeculation,  would  enable  him  to  form  an  eftimate 
of  his  own  powers,  of  the  acquifitions  he  has  made, 
of  the  habits  he  has  formed,  and  of  the  farther  im- 
provements of  which  his  mind  is  fufceptible. 

In  general,  wherever  habits  of  inattention,  and  an 
incapacity  of  obfervation,  are  very  remarkable,  they 
will  be  found  to  have  arifen  from  fome  defect  in  ear- 
ly education  I  already  remarked,  that,  when  nature 
is  allowed  free  fcope,  the  curiofity,  during  early 
youth,  is  alive  to  every  external  objed:,  and  to 
every  external  occurrence,  while  the  powers  of 
imagination  and  reflection  do  not  difplay  them- 
felves  till  a  much  later  period  ;  the  former  till 
about  the  ag?^  of  puberty,  and  the  latter  till  we  ap- 
proach to  manhood.     It  fometimes,  however,  hap- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  4)1 

pens  that,  in  confequence  of  a  peculiar  difpofition 
of  mind,  or  of  an  infirm  bodily  conilitution,  a  child 
is  led  to  feek  amufement  from  books,  and  to  lofe  a 
relifli  for  thofe  recreations  which  are  fuited  to  his 
age.  In  fuch  inftances,  the  ordinary  progrefs  of  the 
intellectual  powers  is  prematurely  quickened  ;  but 
that  beft  of  all  educations  is  loft,  which  nature  has 
prepared  both  for  the  philofopher  and  the  man  of 
the  world,  amidft  the  active  fports  and  the  hazard- 
ous adventures  of  childhood.  It  is  from  thefe  alone, 
that  we  can  acquire,  not  only  that  force  of  character 
which  is  fuited  to  the  more  arduous  fituations  oi 
life,  but  that  complete  and  prompt  command  gf  at- 
tention to  things  external,  without  which  the  high- 
eft:  endowments  of  the  underftanding,  however  they 
may  fit  a  man  for  the  ft)litary  fpeculations  of  the 
clofet,  are  but  of  little  ufe  in  the  practice  of  affairs, 
or  for  enabling  him  to  profit  by  his  perfonal  experi- 
ence. 

Where,  however,  fuch  habits  of  inattention  have 
unfortunately  been  contracted,  we  ought  not  to  de- 
fpair  of  them  as  perfectly  incurable.  The  attention, 
indeed,  as  I  formerly  remarked,  can  feldom  be  forced 
in  particular  inftances  ;  but  we  may  gradually  learn 
to  place  the  obje6ts  we  wifli  to  attend  to,  in  lights 
more  interefting  than  thofe  in  which  we  have  been 
accuftomed  to  view  them.  Much  may  be  expected 
from  a  change  of  fcene,  and  a  change  of  purfuits  ; 
but  above  all,  much  may  be  expected  from  foreign 
travel.  The  objects  which  we  meet  with  excite  our 
furprife  by  their  novelty  ;  and  in  this  manner  we 
not  only  gradually  acquire  the  power  of  obferving 
and  examining  them  with  attention,  but,  from  the 
effects  of  contraft,  the  curiofity  comes  to  be  roufed 
with  refpect  to  the  correfponding  objects  in  our  own 
country,  which,  from  our  early  familiarity  with 
them,  we  had  formerly  been  accultomed  to  overlook. 
In  this  refpect  the  effects  of  foreign  travel,  in  direct- 


412  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

ing  the  attention  to  familiar  objects  and  occurrences, 
is  Ibmewhat  analogous  to  that  which  the  ftudy  of  a 
dead  or  a  foreign  language  produces,  in  leading  the 
curiolity  to  exaniine  the  grammatical  ftrudure  of  our 
own. 

Confiderable  advantage  may  alfo  be  derived,  in 
overcoming  the  habits  of  inattention,  which  we  may 
have  contracted  to  particular  fubjecls,  from  ftudying 
the  fyftems.  true  or  falfe,  which  phllofophers  have 
propofed  for  explaining  or  for  arranging  the  h£ts 
conneded  with  them.  By  means  of  thefe  fyftems, 
not  only  is  the  curiofity  circumfcribed  and  direded, 
inftead  of  being  allowed  to  wander  at  random,  but, 
in  confequence  of  our  being  enabled  to  conriect  facts 
with  general  principles,  it  becomes  interefted  in  the 
examination  (;f  thofe  particulars  which  would  other- 
wife  have  efcaped  our  notice. 


SECTION  VIII. 

Of  the   Connexion  between  Memory  and  fhilofophical 
Genius. 

IT  is  commonly  fuppofed,  that  genius  is  feldom 
united  with  a  very  tenacious  memory.  So  far,  how- 
ever, as  my  own  obfervation  has  reached,  I  can 
fcarcely  recoiledl  one  perfon  who  poffeffes  the  for- 
mer of  thefe  qualities,  without  a  m.ore  than  ordinary 
Ihare  of  the  latter. 

On  a  fuperficial  view  of  the  fubjeCl,  indeed,  the 
common  opinion  has  fome  appearance  of  truth  ;  for, 
we  are  naturally  led,  in  confequence  of  the  topics 
about  which  converfation  is  ufually  employed,  to  ef- 
timate  the  extent  of  memory,  by  the  impreflion 
which  trivial  occurrences  make  upon  it ;  and  thefe 
in  general  efcape  the  recolledion  of  a  man  of  ability, 
not  becaufe  he  is  unable  to  retain  them,  but  becaufe 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  413 

he  does  not  attend  to  them.  It  is  probable,  likewife, 
that  accidental  affociations,  founded  on  contiguity 
in  time  and  place,  may  make  but  a  flight  impreffion 
on  his  mind.  But  it  does  not  therefore  follow,  that 
his  ftock  of  fads  is  fmall.  They  are  conneded  to- 
gether in  his  memory  by  principles  of  aflbc^ation, 
different  from  thofe  which  prevail  in  ordinary  minds; 
and  they  are  on  that  very  account  the  more  uferul : 
for  as  the  affcKiations  are  founded  upon  real  connec- 
tions among  the  ideas,  (although  they  may  be  lefs 
conducive  to  the  fluency,  and  perhaps  to  the  wit  of 
converfation,)  they  are  of  incomparably  greater  ufe 
in  fuggefting  fads  which  are  to  ferve  as  a  founda- 
tion for  reafoning  or  for  invention. 

It  frequently  happens,  too,  that  a  man  of  genius, 
in  confequence  of  a  peculiarly  ftrong  attachment  to 
a  particular  fubjed,  may  firft  feel  a  want  of  inclina- 
tion, and  may  afterwards  acquire  a  want  of  capacity 
of  attending  to  common  occurrences.  But  it  is 
probable  that  the  whole  ftock  of  ideas  in  his  mind, 
is  not  inferior  to  that  of  other  men  ;  and  that  how- 
ever unprofitably  he  may  have  direded  his  curiolity, 
the  ignorance  which  he  difcovers  on  ordinary  fub- 
jeds  does  not  arife  from  a  want  of  memory,  but 
from  a  peculiarity  in  the  feledion  which  he  has 
made  of  the  objeds  of  his  ftudy. 

Montaigne*  frequently  complains  in  his  writings, 
of  his  want  of  memory  ;  and  he  indeed  gives  many 
very  extraordinary  inftances  of  his  ignorance  on 
fome  of  the  moft  ordinary  topics  of  information- 
But  it  is  obvious  to  any  perfon  who  reads  his  works 
with  attention,  that  this  ignorance  did  not  proceed 
from  an  original  defed  of  memory,  but  from  the 

*  II  n'est  homme  a  qui  il  siese  si  mal  de  se  mi^sler  de  par- 
ler  de  meinoire.  Car  je  n'en  recogoov  quasi  trace  en  inoy  ; 
et  ne  pense  qu'il  y  en  ait  au  monde  une  autre  si  niarveil- 
leuse  en  defaillance. 

JEssais  de  Montaigne,  liv.  i.  cb.  9. 


414  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fingular  and  whimfical  dire^lion  which  his  curiofity 
had  taken  at  an  early  period  of  life.  "  I  can  do 
"  nothing,"  fays  he,  "  without  my  memorandum 
*'  book  ;  and  fo  great  is  my  difficulty  in  remember- 
"  ing  proper  names,  that  I  am  forced  to  call  my  do- 
"  melHc  fervants  by  their  offices.  I  am  ignorant  of 
"  the  greater  part  of  our  coins  in  ufe ;  of  the  difFer- 
"  ence  of  one  grain  from  another,  both  in  the  earth 
"  and  in  the  granary  ;  what  ufe  leaven  is  of  m  making 
"  bread,  and  why  wine  muft  Hand  fome  time  in  the 
*'  vat  before  it  ferments."  Yet  the  fame  author  ap- 
pears evidently,  from  his  writings,  to  have  had  his 
memory  ftored  with  an  infinite  variety  of  apothegms, 
and  of  hiftorical  palTages,  which  had  itruck  his  imagi- 
nation ;  and  to  have  been  familiarly  acquainted,  not 
oifly  with  the  names,  but  with  the  abfurd  and  explo- 
ded opinions  of  the  antient  philofophers  ;  with  the 
ideas  of  Plato,  the  atoms  of  Epicurus,  the  plenum  and 
vacuum  of  Leucippus  and  Democritus,  the  water  of 
Thaies,  the  numbers  of  Pythagoras,  the  infinite  of 
Parmenides,  and  the  unity  of  Mufasus.  In  complain- 
ing too  of  his  want  of  prefence  of  mind,  he  direclly 
acknowledges  a  degree  of  memory  which,  if  it  had 
been  juuicioufly  employed,  would  have  been  more 
than  fufficient  for  the  acquifition  of  all  thofe  common 
branches  of  knowledge  in  which  he  appears  \o  have 
been  deficient.  "  When  I  have  an  oration  to  fpeak," 
fays  he,  '^  of  any  confiderable  length,  I  am  reduced 
"  to  the  miferable  neceffity  of  getting  it,  word  for 
"  word,  by  heart." 

The  firange  and  apparently  inconfiflent  combina- 
tion of  knov/ledge  and  ignorance  which  the  writings 
of  Montaigne  exhibit,  led  Malebranche  (who  feems  to 
have  formed  too  low  an  opinion  both  of  his  genius 
and  charader)  to  tax  him  with  affectation  ;  and  even 
to  call  in  queftion  the  credibility  of  fome  of  his  affer- 
tions.  But  no  one  who  is  well  acquainted  with  this 
mofl  amufing  author,  can  reafonably  fufped  his  ve^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  415 

racity  ;  and,  In  the  prefent  inftance,  I  can  give  him 
complete  credit,  not  only  from  my  general  opinion 
of  his  fincerity,  but  from  having  obferved,  in  the 
courfc  of  my  own  experience,  more  than  one  exam- 
ple of  the  fame  fort  of  combination  ;  not  indeed 
carried  to  fuch  a  length  as  Montaigne  defcribes,  but 
bearing  a  ftriking  refemblance  to  it. 

The  obfervations  which  have  already  been  made, 
account,  in  part,  for  the  origin  of  the  common  opin- 
ion, that  genius  and  memory  are  feldom  united  in 
great  degrees  in  the  fame  perfon  ;  and  at  the  fame 
time  fliew,  that  fome  of  the  fads  on  which  that  opin- 
ion is  founded,  do  not  juftify  fuch  a  conclufion.  Be- 
fides  thefe,  however,  there  are  other  circumftances, 
which  at  firft  view,  feem  rather  to  indicate  an  in- 
confiftency  between  extenlive  memory  and  original 
genius. 

The  fpecies  of  memory  which  excites  the  greateft 
degree  of  admiration  in  the  ordinary  intercourfe  of 
fociety,  is  a  memory  for  detached  and  infulated 
fads  ;  and  it  is  certain  that  thofe  men  who  are  pof- 
felTed  of  it,  are  very  feldom  diftinguiflied  by  the 
higher  gifts  of  the  mind.  Such  a  fpecies  of  memo- 
ry is  unfavorable  to  philofophical  arrangement ;  be- 
caufe  it  in  part  fupplies  the  place  of  arrangement. 
One  great  ufe  of  philofophy,  as  I  already  ihewed,  is; 
to  give  us  an  exteniive  command  of  particular 
truths,  by  furnilhing  us  Vv'ith  general  principles,  un- 
der which  a  number  of  fuch  truths  is  comprehended. 
A  perfon  in  whofe  mind  cafual  affociations  of  time 
and  place  make  a  lafting  impreflion,  has  not  the 
fame  inducements  to  philofophize,  with  others  who 
conned  fads  together,  chiefly  by  the  relations  of 
caufe  and  efFecl,  or  of  premifes  and  conclufion.  I 
I  have  heard  it  obferved,  that  thofe  men  who  have; 
rifen  to  the  grcatefl  eminence  in  the  profellion  of  law, 
have  been  in  general  fuch  as  had,  at  lirll,  an  avcrfion 
to  the  fludy.     The  reafon  probably  is,  that  to  a  mind 


416  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

fond  of  general  principles,  every  ftudy  muft  be  at 
firft  difguiling.  which  prefents  to  it  a  chaos  of  fadls 
apparently  unconneded  with  each  other.  But  this 
love  of  arrangement,  if  united  with  perfevering  in- 
duftry,  will  at  laft  conquer  every  difficulty  ;  will  in- 
troduce order  into  what  feenied  on  a  fuperficial  view, 
a  mafs  of  confulion,  and  reduce  the  dry  and  unin- 
terefting  detail  of  pofitive  iiatutes  into  a  fyllem  com- 
paratively luminous  and  beautiful. 

The  oblervation,  I  believe,  may  be  made  more 
general,  and  may  be  applied  to  every  fcience  in  which 
there  is  a  great  multiplicity  of  fa6ts  to  be  remember- 
ed. A  man  deftitute  of  genius  may,  with  little  ef- 
fort, treafure  up  in  his  memory  a  number  of  partic- 
ulars in  chemiftry  or  natural  hiftory,  which  he  re- 
feirs  to  no  principle,  and  from  which  he  deduces  no 
conclufion  ;  and  from  his  facility  in  acquiring  this 
{lock  of  information,  may  flatter  himfeif  with  the 
belief  that  he  pofleffes  a  natural  tafte  for  thefe  bran- 
ches of  knowledge.  But  they  who  are  really  deflin- 
ed  to  extend  the  boundaries  of  fcience,  when  they 
firil  enter  on  new  purfuits,  feel  their  attention  dis- 
tracted, and  their  rnemor}^  overloaded  Vv^ith  facls 
among  which  they  can  trace  no  relation,  and  are 
fometimes  apt  to  defpair  entirely  of  their  future  pro- 
grefs.  In  due  time,  however,  their  fuperiority  ap- 
pears, and  arifes  in  part  from  that  very  diflatisfac- 
tion  which  they  at  firft  experienced,  and  which  does 
not  ceafe  to  ftimulate  their  inquiries,  till  they  are 
enabled  to  trace,  amidft  a  cliaos  of  apparently  uncon- 
nected materials,  that  fimplicity  and  beauty  which 
always  charaderife  the  operations  of  nature. 

There  are,  befides,  other  circumftances  which  re- 
tard the  progrel's  of  a  man  of  genius,  when  he  en- 
ters on  a  new  purfuit,  and  which  fometimes  render 
him  apparently  inferior  to  thofe  who  are  pofleffed  of 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  41? 

ordinary  capacity.  A  want  of  curiofity,*  and  of  in- 
vention, facilitates  greatly  the  acquifition  of  knowl- 
edge. It  renders  the  mind  paffive,  in  receiving  the 
ideas  of  others,  and  faves  all  the  time  which  might 
be  employed  in  examining  their  foundation,  or  in 
tracing  their  confequences.  They  who  are  pofTelTed 
of  much  acutenefs  and  originality,  enter  with  diffi- 
culty into  the  views  of  others  ;  not  from  any  defe6b 
in  their  power  of  appreheniion,  but  becaufe  they 
cannot  adopt  opinions  which  they  have  not  examin- 
ed ;  and  becaufe  their  attention  is  often  feduced  bv 
their  own  fpeculations. 

It  is  not  merely  in  the  acquifition  of  knowledge 
that  a  man  of  genius  is  likely  to  find  himfelf  furpaf- 
fed  by  others  :  he  has  commonly  his  information 
much  lefs  at  command,  than  thofe  who  are  polTefled 
of  an  inferior  degree  ot  originahty  ;  and,  what  is 
/bmewhat  remarkable,  he  has  it  leaft  of  all  at  com- 
mand on  thofe  fubjecls  on  which  he  has  found  his 
invention  moft  fertile.  Sir  Ifaac  Newton,  as  we  are 
told  by  Dr.  Pemberton,  was  often  at  a  lofs,  when 
the  converlation  turned  on  his  own  difcoveries.f  It 
is  probable  that  they  made  but  a  flight  impreflion 
on  his  mind,  and  that  a  confcioufnefs  of  his  inven- 
tive powers  prevented  him  from  taking  much  jains 
to  treafure  them  up  in  his  memory.  Men  of  little 
ingenuity  feldom  forget  the  ideas  they  acquire  ;  be- 
caufe they  know  that  when  an  occalion  occurs  for 
applying  their  knowledge  to  ufe,  they  muft  truft  to 
memory  and  not  to  invention.  Explain  an  arith- 
metical rule  to  a  perfon  of  common  underllanding, 
who  is  unacquainted  with  the  principles  of  the 
fcience  ;  he  will  foon  get  the  rule  by  heart,  and  be- 

*  I  mean  a  want  of  curiosity  about  truth.  "  There  are  many 
"men,"  says  Dr.  Butler,  "  who  have  a  strong  curiosity  to  know: 
"  what  is  said,  who  have  little  or  no  curiosity  to  know  what  is 
"  true." 

t  See  Note  [T.] 
E  E  e 


418  ELEMENTS  Of  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

come  dexterous  in  the  application  of  it.  Another^ 
of  more  ingenuity,  will  examine  the  principle  of  the 
rule  before  he  applies  it  to  ufe,  and  will  fcarcely  take 
the  trouble  to  commit  to  memory  a  procefs,  which 
he  knows  he  can,  at  any  time^  with  a  little  reflection, 
recover.  The  confequence  will  be.  that,  in  the  prac- 
tice of  calculation,  he  will  appear  more  flow  and  hef- 
itating,  than  if  he  followed  the  received  rules  of  a- 
rithmetic  without  reflection  or  reafoning. 

Something  of  the  fame  kind  happens  every  day 
in  converfation.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  o- 
pinions  we  announce  in  it,  are  not  the  immediate 
refult  of  reafoning  on  the  fpot,  but  have  been  previ- 
oufly  formed  in  the  clofet,  or  perhaps  have  been  a- 
dopted  implicitly  on  the  authority  of  others.  The 
promptitude,  therefore,  with  which  a  man  decides  in 
ordinary  difcourfe,  is  not  a  certain  teft  of  the  quick- 
nefs  of  his  appreheniion  ;*  as  it  may  perhaps  arife 
from  thofe  uncommon  efforts  to  furnifh  the  memo- 
ry with  acquired  knowledge,  by  which  men  of  flow 
parts  endeavor  to  compenfate  for  their  want  of  in- 
vention ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  poflible 
that  a  confcioufnefs  of  originality  may  give  rife  to  a 
manner  apparently  embarraffed,  by  leading  the  per- 
fon  who  feels  it,  to  truft  too  much  to  extempore  ex- 
ertions.! 

*  Memoriafacit  prompti  ingenii  famam,ut  ilia  quae  dlcimusnon 
domo  attulisse,  sed  ibi  protinus  sumpsisse  videamur. 

^uiNCfiL.  Inst.  Orat.  lib.  xi.  cap.  2. 

fin  the  foregoing  observations  it  is  not  meant  to  be  implied, 
that  originality  of  genius  is  incompatible  with  a  ready  recollection 
of  acquired  knov/ledge ;  but  only  that  it  has  a  tendency  unfavora- 
ble to  it,  and  that  more  time  and  practice  will  commonly  be  re- 
cessary  to  familiarise  the  mind  of  a  man  of  nivention  to  the  ideas 
of  others,  or  even  to  the  conclusions  of  his  own  understanding,  than 
are  requisite  in  ordinary  cases.  Habits  of  literary  conversation, 
and,  still  more,  habits  of  extempore  discussion  in  a  popular  assena- 
bly,  are  peculiarly  useful  in  giving  us  a  ready  and  practical  com- 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  419 

III  general,  I  believe  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  rule, 
that  thofe  who  carry  about  with  them  a  great  de- 
gree of  acquired  information,  which  they  have  al- 
ways at  command,  or  who  have  rendered  their  own 
difcoveries  fo  familiar  to  them,  as  always  to  be  in  a 
condition  to  explain  them,  without  recolledion,  are 
very  feldom  pofieffed  of  much  invention,  or  even  of 
much  quicknefs  of  apprehenfion.  A  man  of  origin- 
al genius,  who  is  fond  of  exercifing  his  reafoning 
powers  anew  on  every  point  as  it  occurs  to  him, 
and  who  cannot  fubmit  to  rehearfe  the  ideas  of  oth- 
ers, or  to  repeat  by  rote  the  conclufions  which  he 
has  deduced  from  previous  reiledion,  often  appears, 
to  fuperficial  obfervers,  to  fall  below  the  level  of  or- 
dinary underftandings  ;  while  another,  deftitute  both 
of  quicknefs  and  invention,  is  admired  for  that 
promptitude  in  his  decifions,  which  arifes  from  the 
inferiority  of  his  intelle<5lual  abilities. 

It  muft  indeed  be  acknowledged  in  favor  of  the 
^aft  defcription  of  men,  that  in  ordinary  converfa- 
tion  they  form  the  moft  agreeable,  and  perhaps  the 
moft  inftrud:ive,  companions.  How  inexhaullible 
foever  the  invention  of  an  individual  may  be,  the 
variety  of  his  own  peculiar  ideas  can  bear  no  pro- 
portion to  the  whole  mafs  of  ufeful  and  curious  in- 
formation of  which  the  world  is  already  poflbfled. 
The  converfation,  accordingly,  of  men  of  genius,  is 
fometimes  extremely  limited  ;  and  is  interefting  to 
the  few  alone,  who  know  the  value,  and  who  can 
diftinguilh  the  marks  of  originality.  In  confequence 
too  of  that  partiality  which  every  man  feels  for  his 
own  fpeculations,  they  are  more  in  daiigcr  of  being 
dogmatical  and  difputatious,  tiian  thofe  who  have  no 
fyftem  which  they  are  interefted  to  defend. 

mand  of  our  knowledge.  There  Is  much  good  sense  in  the  follov/- 
ing  aphorism  of  Bacon :  "  Reading  maUei:  a  full  man,  writing  a 
*'  correct  man,  and  speaking  a  ready  man."  See  a  commentary 
c^n  this  aphorism  in  one  of  the  Numbers  of  the  Adventurer. 


420  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

The  fame  obfervations  may  be  applied  to  authors. 
A  book  which  contains  the  difcoveries  of  one  indi- 
vidual only,  may  be  admired  by  a  few,  who  are  in- 
timately acquainted  with  the  hiftory  of  t^he  fcience 
to  which  it  relates,  but  it  has  little  chance  for  p(>pu- 
larity  with  the  multitude.  An  author  who  poffeffes 
induftry  fufHcient  to  collect  the  ideas  of  others,  and 
judgment  fufHcient  to  arrange  them  fkilfully,  is  the 
moft  likely  perfon  to  acquire  a  high  degree  of  lite- 
rary fame  :  and  although,  in  the  opinion  of  enlight- 
ened judges,  invention  forms  the  chief  characteriftic 
of  genius,  yet  it  commonly  happens  that  the  objecls 
of  public  admiration  are  men  who  are  much  lefs  dif- 
tinguifhed  by'  this  quality,  than  by  extenfive  learn- 
ing and  cultivated  tafte.  Perhaps  too,  for  the  muU 
titude,  the  latter  clafs  of  authors  is  the  moft  ufeful  ; 
as  their  writings  contain  the  more  folid  difcoveriea 
which  others  have  brought  to  light,  feparated  from 
thofe  errors  with  which  truth  is  often  blended  in  the 
firft  formation  of  a  fyftem. 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

OF  IMAGINATION- 
SECTION  I. 

Analyjis  of  Imagination. 

IN  attempting  to  draw  the  line  between  Concep- 
tion and  Imagination,  I  have  already  obferved,  that 
the  province  of  the  former  is  to  prefent  us  with  an 
exact  tranfcript  of  what  we  have  formerly  felt  ancl 


Of  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  421 

perceived  ;  that  of  the  latter,  to  make  a  feledion  of 
qualities  and  of  circum fiances  from  a  variety  of  dif- 
ferent objecls,  and  by  combining  and  difpofing  thefe^ 
to  form  a  new  creation  of  its  own. 

According  to  the  definitions  adopted,  in  general, 
by  modern  philofophers,  the  province  of  imagina- 
tion would  appear  to  be  limited  to  objedls  of  light, 
''  It  is  the  fenfe  of  fight,"  (fays  Mr.  Addifon,;  "  which 
"  furniflies  the  Imagination  with  its  ideas ;  fo  that 
*^  by  the  pleafures  of  Imagination,  1  here  mean  fuch 
"  as  arife  from  vifible  objecls,  either  when  we  have 
"  them  actually  in  view,  or  when  we  calbup  their 
"  ideas  into  our  minds,  by  paintings,  fi;atues,  def- 
"  criptions,  or  any  the  like  occafions.  We  cannot, 
"  indeed,  have  a  fingle  image  in  the  fancy,  that  did 
"  not  make  its  firft  entrance  through  the  fight." 
Agreeably  to  the  fame  view  of  the  fubjeCl,  Dr.  Reid 
oblerves,  that  "  Imagination  properly  fignifies  a  iive- 
"  ly  conception  of  objecls  of  fight ;  the  former  pow- 
^'  er  being  diflinguifhed  from  the  latter,  as  a  part 
"  from  the  whole." 

That  this  limitation  of  the  province  of  imagination 
to  one  particular  clafs  of  our  perceptions  is  altogeth- 
er arbitrary,  feems  to  me  to  be  evident  ;  for,  al- 
though the  greater  part  of  the  materials  which  Im- 
agination combines  be  fupplied  by  this  fenfe,  it  is  nev- 
erthelefs  indifputable,  that  our  other  perceptive  fac- 
ulties alfo  contribute  occafionally  their  lliare.  How 
many  pleafing  images  have  been  borrowed  from  the 
fragrance  of  the  fields  and  the  melody  of  the  groves  j 
not  to  mention  that  filler  art,  whole  magical  influ- 
ence over  the  human  frame,  it  has  been,  in  all  ages, 
the  highefl  boafl  of  poetry  to  celebrate  !  In  the  fol- 
lowing paflagc,  even  the  more  grofs  fenfations  of 
Tafle  form  the  llibjedl  of  an  ideal  repalt,  on  which 
it  is  impofiible  not  to  dwell  with  fome  complacency  ; 
particularly  after  a  perufal  of  the  preceding  lines,  in 
which  the  Poet  defcribes  **  the  wonders  of  the  Tor- 
rid Zone." 


422  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Bear  me,  Pomona  !  to  thy  citron  groves ; 
To  where  the  lemon  and  the  piercing  lime, 
With  the  deep  orange,  glowing  thro'  the  green, 
Their  lighter  glories  blend.     Lay  me  reclin'd 
Beneath  the  spreading  tamarind  that  shakes, 
Fann'd  by  the  breeze,  its  fever-cooling  fruit : 
Or,  otretch'd  amid  these  orchards  of  the  sun, 
O  let  me  drain  the  cocoa's  milky  bowl, 
More  bounteous  far  than  all  the  frantic  juice 
Which  Baccus  pours !  Nor,  on  its  slender  twigs 
Low  bending,  be  the  full  pomegranate  scorn'd  j 
Nor,  creeping  thro'  the  woods,  the  geUd  race 
Of  berries.     Oft  in  humble  station  dwells 
Unboastful  worth,  above  fastidious  pomp. 
Witness,  thou  best  Anana,  thou  the  pride 
Of  vegetable  life,  beyond  whate'er 
The  Poets  imag'd  in  the  golden  age ; 
(iuick  let  me  strip  thee  of  thy  spiny  coat, 
Spread  thy  ambrosial  stores,  and  feast  with  Jove  !* 

What  an  affemblage  of  other  conceptions,  differ- 
ent from  all  thofe  hitherto  mentioned,  has  the^  gen- 
ius of  Virgil  coiiibined  in  one  diftich  ! 

Hie  gelidi  fontes,  hie  mollia  prata,  Lycori, 
Hie  nemus  :  hie  ipso  tecum  consumerer  aBVO. 

Thefe  obfervations  are  fufficient  to  fhow,  how  in- 
adequate A  notion  of  the  province  of  Imagination 
(conlidered  even  in  its  reference  to  the  fenfible 
world)  is  conveyed  by  the  definitions  of  Mr.  Addifon 
and  of  Dr.  Reid. — But  the  fenfible  world,  it  mufi:  be 
remembered,  is  not  the  only  field  where  Imagination 
exerts  her  powers.  All  the  objeds  of  human  knowl- 
edge fupply  materials  to  her  forming  hand  ;  diver- 
fifying  infinitely  the  works  fhe  produces,  while  the 
mode  of  her  operation  remains  effentially  uniform. 
"As  it  is  the  fame  power  of  Reafoning  which  enables 
US  to  carry  on  our  inve (ligations  with  refpecl  to  in- 
dividual objeds,  and  with  refpecl  to  claffes  or  gene- 
ra ;  fo  it  was  by  the  fame  proceiTes  of  analyfis  and 

*  Thprason's  Summer. 


OF  THE  HUMAN   MIND.  423 

Combination,  that  the  genius  of  Milton  produ- 
ced the  Garden  of  Eden  ;  that  of  Harrington,  the 
Commonwealth  of  Qceana  ;  and  that  of  Shakefpeare, 
the  charaders  of  Hamlet  and  Falfiaff.  '1  he  difTer- 
ence  between  thefe  feveral  efforts  of  invention,  coa- 
fifts  only  in  the  manner  in  which  the  original  mate- 
rials were  acquired  ;  as  far  as  the  power  of  Imagin- 
ation is  concerned,  the  procefles  are  perfedly  analo- 
gous. 

The  attempts  of  Mr.  Addifon  and  of  Dr.  Reid  to 
limit  the  province  of  Imagination  to  objeds  of  fight, 
have  plainly  proceeded  from  a  very  important  facl, 
which  it  may  be  worth  while  to  illuflrate  more  par- 
ticularly ; — That  the  mind  has  a  greater  facility, 
and,  of  confequence,  a  greater  delight  in  recalling 
the  perceptions  of  this  fenfe  than  thofe  of  any  of  the 
others  ;  while  at  the  fame  time,  the  variety  of  qual- 
ities perceived  by  it  is  incomparably  greater.  It  is 
this  fenfe,  accordingly,  which  fupplies  the  painter  and 
the  ftatuary  with  all  the  fubjecls  on  which  their  gen- 
ius is  exercifed  ;  and  which  furnifhes  to  the  defcrip- 
tive  poet  the  largefl  and  the  mofl:  valuable  portion 
of  the  materials  which  he  combines.  In  that  abfurd 
fpecies  of  profe  compofition,  too,  which  borders  on 
poetry,  nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  the  pre- 
dominance of  phrafes  that  recal  to  the  memory, 
glaring  colours,  and  thofe  fplendid  appearances  of 
nature,  which  make  a  ftrong  impreflion  on  the  eye. 
It  has  been  mentioned  by  different  writers,  as  a  char- 
acleriftical  circumftance  in  the  Oriental  or  Afiatic 
ftyle,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  m.etaphors  are  ta- 
ken from  the  celeftial  luminaries.  "  The  Works  of 
"  the  Perfians,"  (fays  M.  de  Voltaire,)  "  are  like  th*. 
"  titles  of  their  kings,  in  which  we  are  perpetually 
*'  dazzled  with  the  lun  and  the  moon.'*  Sir  WiK 
liam  Jones,  in  a  fhort  Eflay  on  the  Poetry  of  Eaflern 
Nations,  has  endeavored  to  fliew,  that  this  is  not 
owing  to  the  bad  tafle  of  the  Afialics,  but  to  the  old 


424.  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHV 

language  and  popular  religion  of  their  country. 
But  the  truth  is,  that  the  very  fame  criticifm  will  be 
found  to  apply  to  the  juvenile  productions  of  every 
author  pofleil'ed  of  a  warm  imagination  ;  and  to  the 
compofitions  of  every  people  among  whom  a  culti- 
vated and  philofophical  tafle  has  not  eftablilhed  a 
fufficiently  marked  diftinclion  between  the  appropri- 
ate ftyles  of  poetry  and  of  profe.  The  account  giv- 
en by  the  Abbe  Girard  of  the  meaning  of  the  Vv'ord 
Phebus,  as  employed  by  the  French  critics,  confirms 
Urongly  this  obfervation.  "  Le  Phebus  a  un  briilant 
'•  qui  iignifie,  ou  femble  fignifier  quelque  chofe  :  le 
"  foleil  y  entre  d'ordinaire  ;  &  c'eil  peut-etre  ce  qui, 
*'  en  notre  langue,  a  donne  lieu  au  nom  de  Phe- 

Agreeably  to  thefe  principles.  Gray,  in  defcribing 
the  infantine  reveries  of  poetical  genius,  has  fixed, 
with  exquillte  judgment,  on  this  clafs  of  our  con- 
ceptions : 

Yet  oft  before  his  infant  eye  would  run  , 
Such  Forms  as  glitter  in  the  Muse's  ray 
With  Orient  hues — 

From  thefe  remarks  it  may  be  eafily  nnderflood, 
why  the  word  huagination,  in  its  moft  ordinary  ac- 
ceptation, Ihould  be  applied  to  cafes  where  our  con- 
ception's are  derived  from  the  fenfe  of  fight ;  although 
the  province  of  this  power  be,  in  fa6l,  as  unlimited 
as  the  fphere  of  human  enjoyment  and  of  human 
thought.  Hence,  the  origin  of  thefe  partial  defini- 
tions which  I  have  been  attempting  to  correct  ;  and 
hence  too,  the  origin  of  the  word  Lnagimiion  ;  the 
etymology  of  which  implies  manifeftly  a  reference 
to  vifible  objecls. 

i     To  all  the  various  modes  in  which  Imagination 
•may  difplay  itfelf,  the  greater  part  of  the  memarks 

*  Synonymes  Francois. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  425 

tontained  in  this  Chapter  will  be  found  to  apply, 
under  proper  limitations  ;  but,  in  order  to  render 
the  fubject  more  obvious  to  the  reader's  examina- 
tion, I  fhall,  in  the  farther  profecution  of  it,  endeav- 
or to  convey  my  ideas,  rather  by  means  of  particu- 
lar examples,  than  in  the  form  of  general  principles  ; 
leaving  it  to  his  own  judgment  to  determine,  with 
what  modifications  the  conciuiions  to  which  we  are 
led,  may  be  extended  jio  other  combinations  of  cir- 
cumdances. 

Among  the  innumerable  phenomena  which  this 
part  of  our  conftitution  prefents  to  our  examination, 
the  combinations  which  the  mind  forms  out  of  ma- 
terials fupplied  by  the  power  of  Conception  recom- 
mend themfelves  ftrongly,  both  by  their  fimplicity, 
and  by  the  interefting  nature  of  the  difcuflions  to 
which  they  lead.  I  fliall  avail  myfelf,  therefore,  as 
much  as  poflible,  in  the  following  enquiries,  of  w^hat- 
ever  iliuftrations  I  am  able  to  borrow  from  the  arts 
of  Poetry  and  of  Painting  ;  the  operations  of  Imagi- 
nation in  thefe  arts  furnifhing  the  moil  intelligible 
and  pleafing  exemplifications  of  the  intelledlual  pro- 
cefles,  by  which,  in  thofe  analogous  but  lefs  pal- 
pable inftances  that  fall  under  the  confideration  of 
the  Moraliit,  the  mind  deviates  from  the  models  pre- 
fented  to  it  by  experience,  and  forms  to  itfelf,  new 
and  untried  objects  of  purfuit.  It  is  in  confequence 
of  fuch  proceffes  (which,  how  little  foever  they  n}ay 
be  attended  to,  are  habitually  pafling  in  the  thoughts 
of  all  men,)  that  huoian  affairs  exhibit  lo  bufy  and 
fo  various  a  fcene  ;  tending,  in  one  cafe,  to  improve- 
ment, and,  in  another,  to  decline  ;  according  as  our 
notions  of  excellence  and  of  happinefs  are  jull  or  er- 
roneous. 

It  was  obferved,  in  a  former  part  of  this  work, 
that  Imagination  is  a  complex  power.*     It  includes 

*See  page  123, 
FFf 


426  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

Conception  or  fimple  Apprehenfion,  which  enables 
us  to  form  a  notion  of  thofe  former  objeds  of  per- 
ception or  of  knowledge,  out  of  which  we  are  to 
make  a  feleftion  ;  Abitraclion,  which  feparates  the 
fele^ed  materials  from  the  qualities  and  circumllan- 
ces  which  are  connected  w^ith  them  in  nature  ;  and 
Judgment  or  Tafte,  which  feleds  the  materials,  and 
directs  their  combination.  To  thefe  powders,  we 
may  add,  that  particular  habit  of  affociation  to  which 
I  formerly  gave  the  name  of  Fancy  ;  as  it  is  this 
which  prefects  to  our  choice,  ail  the  different  mate- 
rials which  are  fubfervient  to  the  efforts  of  Imagin- 
ation, and  which  may  therefore  be  confidered  as 
forming  the  groundwork  of  poetical  genius. 

To  illuflrate  thefe  obfervations,  let  us  confider  the 
Heps  by  which  Milton  muft  have  proceeded  in  crea- 
ting his  imaginary  Garden  of  Eden.     When  he  firft 
propofed  to  himfelf  that  fubje61:  of  defcription,  it  is 
reafonable  to  fuppofe,  that  a  variety  of  the  moil 
ftriking  fcenes  which  he  had  feen  crowded  into  his 
mind.     The   Affociation  of  Ideas  fuggefled  them, 
and  the  pow^er  of  conception   placed  t ach  of  them 
before  him  with  all  its  beauties  and  imperfedions. 
In  every  natural  fcene,  if  we  delline  it  for  any  par- 
ticular purpofe,  there  are  defeds  and  redundancies, 
which  art  may  lometimes,  but  cannot  always,  cor- 
rect.    But  the  power  of  Imagination  is  unlimited. 
She  can  create  and  annihilate  ;  and  difpofe,  at  plea- 
fure,  her  woods,  her  rocks,  and  her  rivers.    Milton, 
accordingly,  would  not  copy  his  Eden  from  any  one 
fcene,  but  would  felecl  from  each  the  features  which 
were  moil  eminently  beautiful.     The  power  of  ab- 
flraclion  enabled  him  to  make  the  feparation,  and 
Tafte  directed  him  in  the  felection.     Thus  he  was 
furniilied  with  his  materials  ;  by  a  fkilful  combina- 
tion of  which,  he  has  created  a  iandfcape,  more  per- 
fe6t  probably  in  all  its  parts,  than  was  ever  realifed 
in  nature  j  and  certainly  very  different  from  any 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  42? 

thing  which  this  country  exhibited,  at  the  period 
when  he  wrote.  It  is  a  curious  remark  of  Mr.  Wal- 
pole,  that  Milton's  Eden  is  free  from  the  defects 
of  the  old  Englifli  garden,  and  is  imagined  on  the 
fame  principles  which  it  was  referved  for  the  prefent 
age  to  carry  into  execution. 

From  what  has  been  faid,  it  is  fufEciently  evident, 
that  Imagination  is  not  a  fimple  power  of  the  mind, 
like  Attention,  Conception,  or  Abftraction  ;  but 
that  it  is  formed  by  a  combination  of  various  facul- 
ties. It  is  farther  evident,  that  it  muft  appear  un- 
der very  different  forms,  in  the  cafe  of  different 
individuals  ;  as  fome  of  its  component  parts 
are  liable  to  be  greatly  influenced  by  habit,  and 
other  accidental  circumflances.  The  variety,  for 
example,  of  the  materials  out  of  which  the  com- 
binations of  the  Poet  or  the  Painter  are  formed, 
will  depend  much  on  the  tendency  of  external  fitu- 
ation,  to  ftore  the  mind  with  a  multiplicity  of  Con- 
ceptions ;  and  the  beauty  of  thefe  combinations  will 
depend  entirely  on  the  fuccefs  with  which  the  pow- 
er  of  Tafte  has  been  cultivated.  What  we  call, 
therefore,  the  power  of  Imagination,  is  not  the  gift 
of  nature,  but  the  refult  of  acquired  habits,  aided  by 
favorable  circumftances.  It  is  not  an  original  en- 
dowment of  the  mind,  but  an  accomplifhment  form- 
ed by  experience  and  (ituation  ;  and  which,  in  its 
different  gradations,  fills  up  all  the  interval  between 
the  firft  efforts  of  uncutored  genius,  and  the  fublime 
creations  of  Raphael  or  of  Milton. 

An  uncommon  degree  of  Imagination  conftitutes 
poetical  genius  ;  a  talent  which,  although  chieHy  dif- 
played  in  poetical  compofition,  is  alfo  the  foundation 
(though  not  precifely  in  the  fame  manner)  of  vari- 
ous other  Arts.  A  few  remarks  on  the  relation 
which  Imagination  bears  to  fome  of  the  moft  inter- 
efting  of  thefe,  will  throw  additional  light  on  its  nar 
tare  and  office. 


428  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 


SECTION  11. 

Of  Imagination  conftdered  in  its  Relation  to  fonie  of  the 
Fine  Arts, 

AMONG  the  Arts  connefled  with  Imagination, 
fome  not  only  take  their  rife  from  this  power,  but 
produce  objeds  which  are  addrelled  to  it  Others 
take  their  rife  from  Imagination,  but  produce  objects 
which  are  addreifed  to  the  power  of  Perception. 

To  the  latter  of  thefe  two  claiTes  of  Arts,  belongs 
that  of  Gardening  ;  or,  as  it  has  been  lately  call- 
ed, the  art  of  creating  Landiicape.  In  this  Art,  the 
defigner  is  limited  in  his  creation  by  nature  ;  and 
his  only  province  is  to  correct,  to  improve,  and  to 
adorn.  As  he  cannot  repeat  his  experiments,  in  or- 
,der  to  obferve  the  effect,  he  muft  call  up,  in  his  im- 
agination, the  fcene  which  he  means  to  produce  ; 
and  apply  to  this  imaginary  fcene  his  tafte  and  his 
judgment^;  or,  in  other  words,  to  a  lively  concep- 
tion of  vifible  objects,  he  muft  add  a  power  (which 
long  experience  and  attentive  obfervation  alone  can 
give  him)  of  judging  beforehand,  of  the  effect  which 
they  would  produce,  if  they  were  aftually  exhibited 
to  his  fenfes.  This  power  forms,  what  Lord  Chat- 
Iiam  beautifully  and  expreffively  called,  the  Prophetic 
Eye  oj  Tajle  ;  that  eye  which  (if  I  may  borrow  the 
language  of  Mr.  Gray)  "  fees  all  the  beauties  that  a 
*'  place  is  fufceptible  of,  long  before  they  are  born  ; 
"  and  when  it  plants  a  feedUng,  already  fits  under 
"  the  fhade  of  it,  and  enjoys  the  effect  it  will  have, 
"  from  every  point  of  view  that  lies  in  the  prof- 
"  pe£t."*  But  although  the  artift  who  creates  a 
landfcape,  copies  it  from  his  imagination,  the  fcene 
which  he  exhibits  is  addreffed  to  the  fenfes,  and  may 

*  Gray's  works,  by  Ma<;on^  p.  277. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  429 

produce  its  full  effect  on  the  minds  of  others,  with- 
out any  effort  on  their  part,  either  of  imagination 
or  of  conception. 

To  prevent  being  mifunderftood,  it  is  neceffary 
for  me  to  remark,  that,  in  the  laft  obfervation,  I  fpeak 
merely  of  the  natural  effects  produced  by  a  land- 
fcape,  and  abftracl  entirely  from  the  pleafure  which 
may  refult  from  an  accidental  affociation  of  ideas 
with  a  particular  fcene.  The  effect  refulting  from 
fuch  aifociations  will  depend,  in  a  great  meafure,  on 
the  livelinefs  with  which  the  affociated  objects  are 
conceived,  and  on  the  affecting  nature  of  the  pict- 
ures which  a  creative  imagination,  when  once  rouf- 
ed,  will  prefent  to  the  mind ;  but  the  pleafures  thus 
arifing  from  the  accidental  exercife  that  a  landfcape 
may  give  to  the  imagination,  muft  not  be  confoun- 
ded  with  thofe  which  it  is  naturally  fitted  to  pro- 
duce. 

In  Painting,  (excepting  in  thofe  inflances  in  which 
it  exhibits  a  faithful  copy  of  a  particular  object,)  the 
original  idea  mull:  be  formed  in  the  imagination  : 
and,  in  moft  cafes,  the  exercife  of  imagination  mufl 
concur  with  perception,  before  the  picture  can  pro- 
duce that  efted:  on  the  mind  of  the  fpectator  which 
the  artill  has  in  view.  Painting,  therefore,  does 
not  belong  entirely  to  either  of  the  two  claffes  of 
Arts  formerly  mentioned,  but  has  fomething  in  com- 
mon with  them  both. 

As  far  as  the  Painter  aims  at  copying  exactly 
what  he  fees,  he  may  be  guided  mechanically  by 
general  rules  ;  and  he  requires  no  aid  from  that  cre- 
ative genius  which  is  charafteriflical  of  the  Poet. 
The  pleafure,  however,  which  refults  from  painting, 
confidcred  merely  as  an  imitative  art,  is  extremely 
trifling  ;  and  is  fpecifically  different  from  that  which 
it  aims  to  produce,  by  awakening  the  imagination. 
Even  in  portrait-painting,  the  fervile  copyift  of  na- 
ture  is  regarded  in  no  higher  light  than  that  of  a 


430  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tradefman.  "  Deception,"  (as  Reynolds  has  excel- 
lently  obferved,)  "  inftead  of  advancing  the  art,  is 
*'  in  reality,  carrying  it  back  to  its  infant  ftate.  The 
"  firll:  eflays  of  Painting  were  certainly  nothing  but 
*'  mere  imitations  of  individual  objects  ;  and  when 
**=  this  amounted  to  a  deception,  the  artift  had  accom- 
"  plifhed  his  purpofe."* 

When  the  hiftory  or  the  landfcape  Painter  indul- 
ges his  genius,  in  forming  new  combinations  of  his 
own,  he  vies  with  the  Poet  in  the  nobleft  exertion  of 
the  poetical  art :  and  he  avails  himfelf  of  his  profef- 
fionai  Ikiil,  as  the  Poet  avails  himfelf  of  language, 
only  to  convey  the  ideas  in  his  mind.  To  deceive 
the  eye  by  accurate  reprefentations  of  particular 
forms,  is  no  longer  his  aim  ;  but,  by  the  touches  of 
an  expreflive  pencil,  to  fpeak  to  the  imaginations  of 
others.  Imitation,  therefore,  is  not  the  end  which 
he  propofes  to  himfelf,  but  the  means  which  he  em- 
ploys in  order  to  accomplilh  it :  nay,  if  the  imita- 
tion be  carried  fo  far  as  to  preclude  all  exercife  of 
the  fpedator's  imagination,  it  will  difappoint,  in  a 
great  meafure,  the  purpofe  of  the  artift. 

In  Poetry,  and  in  every  other  fpecies  of  compofi- 
tion,  in  which  one  perfon  attempts,  by  means  of 
language,  to  prefent  to  the  mind  of  another,  the  ob- 
jecls  of  his  own  imagination  ;  this  power  is  neceffa- 
ry,  though  not  in  the  fame  degree,  to  the  author 
and  to  the  reader.  When  we  perufe  a  defcription, 
we  naturally  feel  a  difpoiition  to  form,  in  our  own 
minds,  a  diftindl  pidure  of  what  is  defcribed  ;  and 
in  proportion  to  the  attention  and  intereft  which  the 
fubjed  excites,  the  pidure  becomes  fteady  and  de- 
terminate. It  is  fcarcely  poflible  for  us  to  hear 
much  of  a  particular  town,  without  forming  fome 
notion  of  its  figure  and  fize  and  fituation  j    and  in 

*  Notes  on  Mason's  Translation  of  Fresno-^ 's  Poem  on  the  Art 
of  Painting,  p.  1 J  4. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  431 

reading  hiftory  and  poetry,  I  believe  it  feldom  hap- 
pens, that  we  do  not  annex  imaginary  appearances 
to  the  names  of  our  favorite  charaders.  It  is,  at 
the  fame  time,  almoft  certain,  that  the  imaginations 
of  no  two  men  coincide  upon  fuch  occaiions  ;  and, 
therefore,  though  both  may  be  pleafed,  the  agreea- 
ble imprefHons  which  they  feel,  may  be  widely  dif- 
ferent from  each  other,  according  as  the  pidures  by 
which  they  are  produced  are  more  or  lefs  happily 
imagined.  Hence  it  is,  that  when  a  perfon  accuf- 
tomed  to  dramatic  reading,  fees,  for  the  firfl  time, 
one  of  his  favorite  charaders  reprefented  on  the 
ftage,  he  is  generally  diifatisfied  with  the  exhibition, 
however  eminent  the  ador  may  be  :  and  if  he  fhould 
happen,  before  this  reprefentation,  to  have  been  ve- 
ry familiarly  acquainted  with  the  charader,  the  cafe 
may  continue  to  be  the  fame  through  life.  For  my 
own  part,  I  have  never  received  from  any  Falftaft 
on  the  ftage,  halt  the  pleafure  which  Shakefpeare 
gives  me  in  the  clofet  ;  "and  I  am  perfuaded,  that  I 
Ihould  feel  fome  degree  of  uneaiinefs,  if  I  were  pref- 
ent  at  any  attempt  to  perfonate  the  figure  or  the 
voice  of  Don  Quixote  or  Sancho  Panca.  It  is  not 
always  that  the  ador,  on  fuch  occaiions,  falls  fhort  of 
our  expedation.  He  difappoints  us,  by  exhibiting 
fomething  different  from  what  our  imagination  had 
anticipated,  and  which  confequently  appears  to  us, 
at  the  moment,  to  be  an  unfaithful  reprefentation  of 
the  Poet's  idea :  and  until  a  frequent  repetition 
of  the  performance  has  completely  obliterated  our 
former  impreflions,  it  is  impoffible  for  us  to  form  an 
adequate  eftimate  of  its  merit. 

Similar  obfervations  may  be  applied  to  other  fub- 
jeds.  The  fight  of  any  natural  fcene,  or  of  any 
work  of  art,  provided  we  have  not  previoufly  heard 
of  it,  commonly  produces  a  greater  effed,  at  firft, 
than  ever  afterwards  ;  but  if  in  confequence  of  a  de- 
fcription,  we  have  beep  led  to  form  a  previous  no- 


432  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

tion  of  it,  I  apprehend,  the  eiFecl  will  be  found  leis 
pleaiing,  the  firft  time  it  is  feen,  than  the  fecond. 
Although  the  defcription  fiiould  fall  fliort  greatly  of 
the  reality,  yet  the  difappointment  which  we  feel, 
on  meeting  with  fomething  different  from  what  we 
expected,  diminifhes  our  fatisfaction.  The  fecond 
time  we  fee  the  fcene,  the  effect  of  novelty  is  indeed 
lefs  than  before ;  but  it  is  ftill  confiderable,  and  the 
imagination  now  anticipates  nothing  which  is  not 
reaiifed  in  the  perception. 

The  remarks  which  have  been  made,  afford  a  fat- 
isfaclory  reafon  why  fo  few  are  to  be  found  v/ho 
have  a  genuine  relifh  for  the  beauties  of  poetry. 
The  defigns  of  Kent  and  of  Brown  evince  in  their 
authors  a  degree  of  imagination  entirely  analogous 
to  that  of  the  defcriptive  poet ;  but  when  they  are 
once  executed,  their  beauties  (excepting  thofe  which 
refult  from  affociation)  meet  the  eye  of  every  fpec- 
tator.  In  poetry  the  effect  is  inconfiderable,  unlefs 
upon  a  mind  which  poffeffes  fome  degree  of  the  au- 
thor's genius  ;  a  mind  amply  furnifhed,  by  its  pre- 
vious habits,  with  the  means  of  interpreting  the 
language  which  he  employs  ;  and  able,  by  its 
own  imagination,  to  co-operate  with  the  efforts  of 
his  art. 

It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  the  general  words 
w^hich  exprefs  complex  ideas,  feldom  convey  pre- 
cifely  the  fame  meaning  to  different  individuals,  and 
that  hence  arifes  much  of  the  ambiguity  of  language. 
The  fame  obfervation  holds,  in  no  inconfiderable  de- 
gree, with  refpedt  to  the  names  of  fenfible  objeiR^s. 
When  the  v/ords  River,  Mountain,  Grove,  occur  in 
a  defcription,  a  perfon  of  lively  conceptions  natur- 
ally thinks  of  fome  particular  river,  mountain,  and 
grove,  that  have  made  an  impreflion  on  his  mind  ; 
and  whatever  the  notions  are,  which  he  is  led  by 
his  imagination  to  form  of  thefe  objects,  they  mult 
neceflarily  approach  to  the  ilandard  of  what  he  has 


OF  THE  HUMAJr  MIND.  433 

feen.  Hence  it  Is  evident  that,  according  to  the 
different  habits  and  education  of  individuals  ;  accor- 
ding to  the  livelinefs  of  their  conceptions,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  creative  power  of  their  imaginations, 
the  fame  words  will  produce  very  different  effedi 
on  different  minds.  When  a  perfon  who  has  re- 
ceived his  education  in  the  country,  reads  a  defcrip- 
tion  of  a  rural  retirement ;  the  houfe,  the  river,  the 
woods,  to  which  he  was  firft  accuftomed,  prefent 
themfelves  fpontaneoufly  to  his  conception,  accom- 
panied, perhaps,  with  the  recollection  of  his  early 
friendihips,  and  all  thofe  pleafing  ideas  which  are 
commonly  affociated  with  the  fcenes  of  childhood 
and  of  youth.  How  different  is  the  effedl  of  the  de- 
fcription  upon  his  mind,  from  what  it  would  pro- 
duce on  one  who  has  paffed  his  tender  years  at  a 
dittance  from  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  whofe  in- 
fant fports  are  conneded  in  his  memory  with  the 
gloomy  alleys  of  a  commercial  city  ! 

But  it  is  not  only  in  interpreting  the  particular 
words  of  a  defcription,  that  the  powers  of  Imagina- 
tion and  Conception  are  employed.  They  are  far- 
ther neceffary  for  filling  up  the  differeat  parts  of 
that  pidure,  of  which  the  moft  minute  defcriber  can 
only  trace  the  outline.  In  the  beft  defcription, 
there  is  much  left  to  the  reader  to  fupply  j  and  the 
efFed  which  it  produces  on  his  mind  will  depend,  in 
a  confiderable  degree,  on  the  invention  and  tafte 
with  which  the  pidure  is  finifhed.  It  is  therefore 
poffible,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  happiefl  efforts 
of  poetical  genius  may  be  peruied  with  perfed  in- 
difference by  a  man  c)f  found  judgment,  and  not  def- 
titute  of  natural  fenfibility  ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
that  a  cold  and  commonplace  defcription  may  be 
the  means  of  awaken. ng,  in  a  rich  and  glowing  im- 
agination, a  degree  of  enthufiafm  unknown  to  the 
author. 

Gog 


434?  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

All  the  different  arts  which  I  have  hitherto  men- 
tioned as  taking  their  rife  from  the  imagination, 
have  this  in  common,  that  their  primary  objeft  is  to^ 
pleafe.  This  oblervation  applies  to  the  art  of  Poet- 
ry, no  lefs  than  to  the  others  ;  nay,  it  is  this  circum- 
ftance  which  chara6lerifes  Poetry,  and  diftinguiflies 
it  from  all  the  other  claffes  of  literary  compofition. 
The  objed  of  the  Philofopher  is  to  inform  and  en- 
lighten mankind  ;  that  of  the  Orator,  to  acquire  an 
afcendant  over  the  will  of  others,  by  bending  to  his 
^  own  purpofes  their  judgments,  their  imaginations, 
and  their  paflions  :  but  the  primary  and  the  diftin- 
guifhing  aim  of  the  Poet  is  to  pleafe  ;  and  the  princi- 
pal refource  which  he  poiTeffes  for  this  purpofe,  is 
by  addreffing  the  imagination.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
he  may  feem  to  encroach  on  the  province  of  the 
Philofopher  or  of  the  Orator  ;  but,  in  thefe  inftan- 
ces,  he  only  borrows  from  them  the  means  by  which 
he  accomplifhes  his  end.  If  he  attempts  to  enlight- 
en and  to  inform,  he  addreffes  the  underftanding 
only  as  a  vehicle  of  pleafure  :  if  he  makes  an  appeal 
to  the  paflions,  it  is  only  to  paflions  which  it  is  pleaf- 
ing  to  indulge.  The  Philofopher,  in  like  manner, 
in  order  to  accomplifh  his  end  of  inflruc^ion,  may 
find  it  expedient,  occafionally,  to  amufe  the  imagin* 
ation,  or  to  make  an  appeal  to  the  paflions  :  the  Or- 
ator may,  at  one  time,  ilate  to  his  hearers  a  procefs 
of  reafoning  ;  at  another,  a  calm  narrative  of  facls  ; 
and,  at  a  third,  he  may  give  the  reins  to  poetical  fan- 
cy. But  flill  the  ultimate  end  of  the  Philofopher  is 
to  inflrud,  and  of  the  Orator  to  perfuade  ;  and  w^hat- 
ever  means  they  make  ufe  oif,  which  are  not  fubfer- 
vient  to  this  purpofe,  are  out  of  place,  and  obflruct 
the  effect  of  their  labors. 

The  meafured  compofition  in  which  the  Poet  ex- 
preffes  himfelf,  is  only  one  of  the  means  which  he 
employs  to  pleafe.  As  the  delight  which  he  con- 
veys to  the  imagination,  is  heightened  by  the  other 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  435 

agreeable  impreffions  which  he  can   unite  in  the 
mind  at  the  fame  time  ;  he  lludies  to  beftow,  upon 
the  medium  of  communication  which  he  employs, 
all  the  various  beauties  of  which  it  is  fufceptible. 
i^mong  thefe  beauties,  the  harmony  of  numbers  is 
not  the  leaft  powerful ;    for  its  effed  is  conflant, 
and  does  not  interfere  with  any  of  the  other  pleaf- 
ures  which  language  produces.     A  fuccdiion  of  a- 
greeable  perceptions  'is  kept  up  by  the  organical  ef- 
fect of  words  upon  the  ear  ;  while  they  inform  the 
underftanding  by  their  pcrfpicuity  and  precifion,  or 
pleafe  the  imagination  by  the  pictures  they  fuggeft, 
or  touch  the  heart  by  the  aflbciations  they  awaken. 
Of  all  thefe  charms  of  language,  the  Poet  may  avail 
himfelf ;  and  they  are  all  (6  many  inllruments  of  his 
art.     To  the  Philofopher  and  the  Orator  they  may 
Gccafionally  be  of  ufe  ;  and  to  both  they  muft  be  con- 
fiantly  fo  far  an  objed  of  attention,  that  nothing  may 
occur  in  their  compofitions,  which  may  diftrad  the 
thoughts,  by  offending  either  the  ear  or  the  tafte  ; 
but  the  Poet  muft  fiot  reft  fatisfied  with  this  nega- 
tive  praife.     Pleafure  is  the  end  of  his  art ;  and  the 
more  numerous  the  fources  of  it  which  he  can  open, 
the  greater  will  be  the  effect  produced  by  the  efforts 
of  his  genius. 

The  province  of  the  poet  is  limited  only  by  the 
variety  of  human  enjoyments.  Whatever  is  in  the 
reality  fubfervient  to  our  happinefs,  is  a  fource  of 
pleafure,  when  prefented  to  our  conceptions,  and 
may  fometimes  derive  from  the  heightenings  of  im- 
agination, a  momentary  charm,  which  we  exchange 
with  reludance  for  the  fubftantial  gratifications  of 
the  fenfes.  The  province  of  the  painter,  and  of  the 
flatuary,  is  confined  to  the  imitation  of  vifible  objeds 
and  to  the  exhibition  of  fuch  intellectual  and  moral 
qualities,  as  the  human  body  is  fitted  to  exprefs.  In 
ornamental  architecture,  and  in  ornamental  garden- 
ing, the  fole  aim  of  the  artift  is  to  give  pleafure  to 


436  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

the  eye,  by  the  beauty  or  fublimity  of  material  forms. 
But  to  the  poet  all  the  glories  of  external  nature  ; 
all  that  is  amiable  or  interefting,  or  refpe£lable  in 
human  charader  ;  all  that  excites  and  engages  our 
benevolent  afFe(5lions  :  all  thofe  truths  which  make 
the  heart  feel  itfelf  better  and  more  happy  ;  all 
thefe  fupply  materials,  out  of  which  he  forms  and 
peoples  a  world  of  his  own,  where  no  inconvenien* 
ces  damp  our  enjoyments,  and  where  no  clouds  dar- 
ken our  profpects. 

That  the  pleafuresof  poetry  arife  chiefly  from  the 
agreeable  feelings  which  it  conveys  to  the  mind,  by 
awakening  the  imagination,  is  a  propofition  which 
may  feem  too  obvious  to  ftand  in  need  of  proof.  As 
tke  ingenious  Inquirer,  however,  into  "  The  Origin 
of  our  Ideas  of  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,"  has  dif- 
puted  the  common  notions  upon  this  fubjed:,  I  fhall 
conlider  fome  of  the  principal  arguments  by  which 
he  has  fupported  his  opinion 

The  leading  principle  of  the  theory  which  I  am 
now  to  examine  is,  "  That  the  common  efFecl  of  po- 
"  etry  is  not  to  raife  ideas  of  things ;"  or,  as  I  would 
rather  chufe  to  exprefs  it,  its  common  effed  is  not 
to  give  exercife  to  the  powers  of  conception  and  im- 
agination. That  I  may  not  be  accufed  of  mifrepre- 
fentation,  I  fhall  ftate  the  doclrine  at  length  in  the 
words  of  the  author.  "  If  words  have  all  their  pof- 
"  fible  extent  of  power,  three  effecls  arife  in  the 
"  mind  of  the  hearer.  The  firft  is  the  found ;  the 
"  fecond,  the  pidure,  or  reprefentation  of  the  thing 
"  lignified  by  the  found  ;  the  third  is,  the  offeBion 
*'  of  the  foul  produced  by  one  or  by  both  of  the  fore- 
"  going.  Compounded  abftrad:  words,  {^honor,  juf- 
"  tice,  liberty,  and  the  like,)  produce  the  firit  and 
"  the  lafl  of  thefe  effects,  bu^  not  the  fecond.  Sim- 
"  pie  abilracts  are  uied  to  fignify  fome  one  fmiple 
'*  idea,  without  much  adverting  to  others  which 
**  may  chance  to  attend  it ;  as  blue,  green,  hot,  cold^ 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  4S7 

"  and  the  like  :  thefe  are  capable  of  efFeding  all 
^'  three  of  the  purpofes  of  words  ;  as  the  aggregate 
*'  words,  man,  caftle,  horfe,  &c.  are  in  a  yet  higher 
"  degree.  But  I  am  of  opinion,  that  the  rnoft 
"  general  effed  even  of  thefe  words,  does  not  arife 
"  from  their  forming  pictures  of  the  feveral  things 
«  they  would  reprefent  in  the  imagination  ;  be- 
"  caufe,  on  a  very  diligent  examination  of  my 
«  own  mind,  and  getting  others  to  coniider  theirs, 
«  I  do  not  find  that  once  in  twenty  times  any 
«  fuch  pidlure  is  formed  ;  and  when  it  is,  there  is 
<«  moil:  commonly  a  particular  effort  of  the  imagina- 
<«  tion  for  that  purpofe.  But  the  aggregate  words 
<«  operate,  as  I  faid  of  the  compound  abftracts,  not 
«  by  prefenting  any  image  to  the  mind,  but  by  hav- 
<«  ing  from  ufe  the  fame  effect  on  being  mentioned, 
«  that  their  original  has  when  it  is  feen.  Suppofe 
<«  we  were  to  treat  a  paiTage  to  this  efFedt :  "  The 
«  river  Danube  rifes  in  a  moift  and  mountainous 
«  foil  in  the  heart  of  Germany,  where,  winding  to 
«  and  fro,  it  waters  feveral  principalities,  until  turn- 
««  ing  into  Auftria,  and  leaving  the  walls  of  Vienna, 
«  it  paiTes  into  Hungary  ;  there  with  a  vaft  flood, 
««  augmented  by  the  Saave  and  the  Drave,  it  quits 
<«  Chriftendom,  and  rolling  through  the  barbarous 
"  countries  which  border  on  Tartary,  it  enters  by 
<«  many  mouths  into  the  Black  Sea."  In  this  defcrip- 
<«  tion  many  things  are  mentioned  ;  as  mountains, 
'«  rivers,  cities,  the  fea,  &c.  But  let  any  body  exam- 
<«  ine  himfclf,  and  fee  whether  he  has  had  imprelTed 
«'  on  his  imagination  any  pictures  of  a  n^er,  moun- 
<«  tain,  watery  foil,  Germany,  &c.  Indeed,  it  is  impof- 
<*  fible,  in  the  rapidity  and  quick  fuccefllon  of  words 
"  in  converfation,  to  have  ideas  both  of  the  found  of 
"  the  word,  and  of  the  thing  reprefented  ;  befides, 
"  fome  words  exprefling  real  effences,  are  fo  mixed 
"  with  others  of  a  general  and  nominal  import  that 
*'  it  is  impracticable  to  jump  from  fenfe  to  thought, 


438  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

"  from  particulars  to  generals,  from  things  to  words, 
*'  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  anfwer  the  purpofes  of  life  ; 
"  nor  is  it  neceffary  that  we  fhould." 

In  farther  confirmation  of  this  dodlrine,  Mr.  Burke 
refers  to  the  poetical  works  of  the  late  amiable  and 
ing;enious  Dr.  Blacklock  "  Here^^  fays  he,  "  is  a< 
''  poet^  doubt lefs  as  much  affeSled  by  his  own  defrriptionsy 
^^  as  any  that  reads  them  can  be  ;  and  yet  he  is  affected 
"  with  this  ftrong  enthufiafm,  by  things  of  which  he 
"  neither  has,  nor  can  pofllbly  have,  any  idea,  far- 
"  ther  than  that  of  a  bare  found  ;  and  why  may  not 
*'  thofe  who  read  his  works  be  affedled  in  the  fame 
"  manner  that  he  was,  with  as  little  of  any  real  ideas 
"  of  the  things  deCcribed." 

Before  I  proceed  to  make  any  remarks  on  thefe 
palTages,  I  muft  obferve  in  general,  that  I  perfeclly 
agree  with  Mr.  Burke,  in  thinking  that  a  very  great 
proportion  of  the  words  which  we  habitually  em- 
ploy, have  no  effect  to  "  raife  ideas  in  the  mind  ;'* 
or  to  exercife  the  powers  of  conception  and  imagin- 
ation.  My  notions  on  this  fubjed:  I  have  already 
fufHciently  explained  in  treating  of  Abflradion. 

I  agree  with  him  farther,  that  a  great  proportion 
of  the  words  which  are  ufed  in  poetry  and  eloquence, 
produce  very  powerful  effecfls  on  the  mind,  by  ex- 
citing emotions  which  we  have  been  accuftomed  to 
affociate  with  particular  founds  j  without  leading 
the  imagination  to  form  to  itfelf  any  pidures  or  rep- 
refentations  ;  and  his  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  fuch  words  operate,  appears  to  me  fatisfadtory. 
"  Such  words  are  in  reality  but  mere  founds  ;  but 
"  they  are  founds,  which,  being  ufed  on  particular 
."  occafions,  wherein  we  receive  feme  good,  or  fuf- 
"  fer  fome  evil ;  or  fee  others  affected  with  good  or 
"  evil ;  or  which  we  hear  applied  to  other  intereft- 
"  ing  things  or  events  ;  and  being  applied  in  fuch 
"  a  variety  of  cafes,  that  we  know  readily  by  habit 
"  to  what  things  they  belong,  they  produce  in  the 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  4S9 

"  mind,  whenever  they  are  afterwards  mentioned, 
"  eiFeds  limilar  to  thofe  of  their  occafioras.  The 
"  founds  being  often  ufed  without  reference  to  any 
"  particular  occaiion,  and  carrying  ftill  their  firft  im- 
"  preflions,  they  at  laft  utterly  lofe  their  connection 
"  with  the  particular  occafions  that  gave  rife  to 
"  them  ;  yet  the  found,  without  any  annexed  no- 
"  tion,  continues  to  operate  as  before." 

Notwithftanding,  however,  thefe  conceflions,  I 
cannot  admit  that  it  is  in  this  way  poetry  produces 
its  principal  effect.  Whence  is  it  that  general  and 
abftradl  expreffions  are  fo  tame  and  lifelefs,  in  com- 
parifon  of  thofe  which  are  particular  and  figurative  ? 
Is  it  not  becaufe  the  former  do  not  give  any  exer- 
cife  to  the  imagination,  like  the  latter  ?  Whence  the 
diftindion,  acknowledged  by  all  critics,  ancient  and 
modern,  between  that  charm  of  words  which  evapo- 
rates in  the  procefs  of  tranflation,  and  thofa  perma- 
nent beauties,  which  prefenting  to  the  mind  the  dif- 
tindlnefs  of  a  picture,  may  impart  pleafure  to  the 
moft  remote  regions  and  ages  ?  Is  it  not,  that  in  the 
one  cafe,  the  Poet  addrefl'es  himfelf  to  affociations 
which  are  local  and  temporary  ;  in  the  other,  to 
thofe  effential  principles  of  human  nature,  from 
which  Poetry  and  painting  derive  their  common  at- 
tractions ?  Hence,  among  the  various  fources  of  the 
fublime,  the  peculiar  ftrefs   laid  by  Longinus  on 

what  he  calls  ViJlOns^  QS?ixvToiaitxi'^ orav  a.  ^£7*3?,  tu' £v$&t'cr<a<3-- 

In  treating  of  abftraction  I  formerly  remarked, 
that  the  perfection  of  philofophical  ftyle  is  to  ap- 
proach  as  nearly  as  poflible  to  that  fpecies  of  language 
we  employ  in  algebra,  and  to  exclude  every  expref- 
iion  which  has  a  tendency  to  divert  the  attention  by 

*  Dc  Sublim.  §  xv. — Quas  (pxirxaixs  Graeci  vccant,  nos  sane 
Vis'iones  appellamus  ;  per  quas  imagines  rerum  absentiiim  ita  re- 
praesentantur  animo,  ut  eas  cernere  ocuiis  ac  praesentes  habeie  vi- 
deamur,     QuI^CT.  Inst.  Orat.  vi.  2. 


440  ELEMENTS  OF  THB  PHILOSOPHY 

exciting  the  imagination,  or  to  bias  the  judgment 
by  cafual  aflociations.  For  this  purpofe  the  Philof- 
opher  ought  to  be  fparing  in  the  employment  of 
figurative  words,  and  to  convey  his  notions  by  gen- 
eral terms  which  have  been  accurately  defined.  To 
the  Orator,  on  the  other  hand,  when  he  wifhes  to 
prevent  the  cool  exercife  of  the  underilanding,  it 
may,  on  the  fame  account,  be  frequently  ufed  to  de- 
light or  to  agitate  his  hearers,  by  blending  with  his 
reafonings  the  illufions  of  poetry,  or  the  magical  in- 
fluence of  founds  confecrated  by  popular  feelings* 
A  regard  to  the  different  ends  thus  aimed  at  in  Phi- 
lofophical  and  in  Rhetorical  compofition,  renders  the 
ornaments  which  are  fo  becoming  in  the  one,  incon- 
fiftent  with  good  tafl:e  and  good  fenfe,  when  adopted 
in  the  other. 

In  Poetry,  as  truth  and  facls  are  introduced,  not 
for  the  purpofe  of  information,  but  to  convey  plea- 
fure  to  the  mind,  nothing  offends  more,  than  thofe 
general  expreflions  which  form  the  great  inftrument 
of  philofophical  reafoning.  The  original  pleafures, 
which  it  is  the  aim  of  poetry  to  recal  to  the  mind, 
are  all  derived  from  individual  objedls ;  and,  of  con- 
fequence,  (with  a  very  few  exceptions,  which  it 
does  not  belong  to  my  prefent  fubjecl:s  to  enume- 
rate,) the  more  particular,  and  the  more  appropria- 
ted its  language  is,  the  greater  will  be  the  charm  it 
pofTefies. 

With  refpecl  to  the  defcription  of  the  courfe  of  the 
Danube  already  quoted,  I  fhall  not  difpute  the  rcfult 
of  the  experiment  to  be  as  the  author  reprefents  it. 
That  words  may  often  be  applied  to  their  proper 
purpofes,  without  our  annexing  any  particular 
notions  to  them,  I  have  formerly  fiiewn  at  great 
length  ;  and  1  admit  that  the  meaning  of  this  defcrip- 
tion may  be  fo  underftood.  But  to  be  underilood, 
is  not  the  fole  object  of  the  poet ;  his  primary  object 
is  to  pleaie  ;  and  the  pleafure  which  he  conveys  will. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  kiND.  441 

in  general  be  found  to  be  proportioned  to  the  beau- 
ty and  livelinefs  of  the  images  which  he  fuggefts.  In 
the  cafe  of  a  poet  born  blind,  the  effect  of  poetry 
muft  depend  on  other  caufes  ;  but  whatever  opinion 
we  may  form  on  this  point,  it  appears  to  me  impof- 
lible,  that  fuch  a  poet  ftiould  receive,  even  from  his 
own  defcriptions,  the  fame  degree  of  pleafure  which 
they  may  convey  to  a  reader,  who  is  capable  of  con- 
ceiving the  fcenes  which  are  defcribed.  Indeed  this 
inftance  which  Mr.  Burke  produces  in  fupport  of 
his  theory,  is  fufficient  of  itfelf  to  ihew,  that  the  the- 
ory cannot  be  true  in  the  extent  in  which  it  is 
Hated. 

By  way  of  contrail  to  the  defcription  of  the  Dan- 
ube, I  {hall  quote  a  ftanza  from  Gray,  which  affords 
a  very  beautiful  example  of  the  two  different  effects 
of  poetical  expreflion.  The  pleafure  conveyed  by 
the  two  lall  lines  refolves  almofl  entirely  into  Mr. 
Burke's  principles  ;  but,  great  as  this  pleafure  is, 
how  inconiiderable  is  it  in  comparifon  of  that  arifing 
from  the  continued  and  varied  exercife  which  the 
preceding  lines  give  to  the  imagination  ? 

"  In  clinaes  beyonci  the  solar  road, 
♦*  Where  shaggy  forms  o'er  ice-built  mountains  roam« 
"  The  muse  has  broke  the  twilight-gloom, 
"  To  cheer  the  shiv'ring  natives'  dull  abode. 
**  And  oft,  beneath  the  od'rous  shade, 
♦'  Of  Chili's  boundless  forests  laid, 
"  She  deigns  to  hear  the  savage  youth  repeat, 
"  In  loose  numbers  wildly  sweet, 
*'  Their  feather-cinctur'd  chiefs,  and  dusky  loves, 
"  Her  track  where'er  the  goddess  roves, 
"  Glory  pursue,  and  generous  shame, 
"  Th'  unconquerable  mind,  and  freedom's  holy  flame.'* 

I  cannot  help  remarking  further,  the  effedt  of  the 

folemn  and  uniform  flow  of  the  verfe  in  this  exquif- 

ite   ftanza,  in  retarding  the  pronunciation  of  the 

reader  j  fo  as  to  arreft  his  attention  to  every  fuccef- 

Hnh 


442  ELEMENTS  OF    THE  PHILOSOPHY 

five  picture,  till  it  has  time  to  produce  its  proper 
impreilion.  More  of  the  charm  of  poetical  rythm 
arifes  from  this  circumftance,  than  is  commonly  im- 
agined. 

To  thofe  who  wifli  to  fludy  the  theory  of  poetical 
expreflion,  no  author  in  our  language  affords  a  rich- 
er variety  of  illutirations  than  the  poet  laft  quoted. 
His  merits,  in  many  other  refpects,  are  great ;  but 
his  fkill  in  this  particular  is  more  peculiarly  confpic- 
uous.  How  much  he  had  made  the  principles  of 
this  branch  of  his  art  an  object  of  iludy,  appears 
from  his  letters  publiihed  by  Mr.  Mafon. 

I  have  fometimes  thought,  that,  in  the  laft  line  of 
the  following  paffage,  he  had  in  view  the  two  dif- 
erent  effects  of  words  already  defcribed  ;  the  efFedk 
of  fome,  in  awakening  the  powers  of  Conceptioa 
and  Imagination  ;  and  that  of  others,  in  exciting 
affociated  emotions : 

"  Hark,  his  hands  the  lyre  explore ! 
"  Bright-ey'd  Fancy  hovering  o'er, 
"  Scatters  from  her  pictur'd  urn, 
**  Thoughts,  that  breathe,  and  words,  that  burn,"— — 


SECTION  III. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Subject, —^Relation  of  Imaging" 
tion  and  of  Tafte  to  Genius.        ^ 

FROM  the  remarks  made  in  the  foregoing  Sec- 
tions, it  is  obvious,  in  what  manner  a  perfon  accuf- 
tomed  to  analyfe  and  combine  his  conceptions,  may 
acquire  an-  idea  of  beauties  fuperior  to  any  which  he 
has  feen  realifed.  It  may  alfo  be  eafily  inferred, 
that  a  habit  of  forming  fuch  intelledual  combinations, 
and  of  remarking  their  effects  on  our  own  minds, 
muft  contribute  to  refine  and  to  exalt  the  Tafte, 
to  a  degree  which  it  never  can  attain  in  thofe  men> 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MINO.  443 

who  ftudy  to  improve  it  by  the  obfervation  and 
comparifon  of  external  objects  only. 

A  cultivated  Talle,  cotnbined  with  a  creative  Im- 
agination, conftitutes  Genius  in  the  Fine  Arts. 
Without  tafte,  imagination  could  produce  only  a 
random  analyfis  and  combination  of  our  conceptions; 
and  without  imagination,  talte  would  be  deftitute 
of  the  faculty  of  invention.  Thefe  two  ingredients 
of  genius  may  be  mixed  together  in  all  poiiible  pro- 
portions ;  and  where  either  is  poffefi'ed  in  a  degree 
remarkably  exceeding  what  falls  to  the  ordinary 
ihare  of  mankind,  it  may  compenfate  in  fome  meaf- 
ufe  ior  a  deficiency  in  the  other.  An  uncommonly 
corred  tafte,  with  little  imagination,  if  it  does  not 
produce  works  which  excite  admiration,  produces 
at  leaft  nothing  which  can  offend.  An  uncommon 
fertility  of  imagination,  even  when  it  offends,  excites 
our  wonder  by  i's  creative  power  ;  and  fhews  what 
i-t  could  have  performed,  had  its  exertions  been  gui- 
ded by  a  more  perfe<5l:  model. 

In  the  infancy  of  the  Arts,  an  union  of  thefe  two 
powers  in  the  fame  mind  is  necelTary  for  the  pro- 
duction of  every  work  of  genius.  Tafte,  without 
imagination,  is,  in  fuch  a  fituation,  impoflible  ;  for^ 
as  there  are  no  monuments  of  antient  genius  on 
which  it  can  be  formed,  it  muft  be  the  reiult  of  ex- 
periments, which  nothing  but  the  imagination  of 
every  individual  can  enable  him  to  make.  Such  a 
tafte  muft  neceffarily  be  imperfed^  in  confequence 
of  the  limited  experience  of  which  it  is  the  refult ; 
but,  without  imagination,  it  could  not  have  been  ac- 
quired even  in  this  imperfecl  degree. 

In  the  progrefs  of  the  Arts  the  cafe  comiCS  to  be 
altered.  The  produdions  of  genius  accumulate  to 
fuch  an  extent,  that  tafte  may  be  formed  by  a  care- 
ful ftudy  of  the  works  of  others  ;  and  as  formerly 
imagination  had  ferved  as  a  neceffary  foundation  for 
l:afte,  fo  tafte  begins  now  to  invade  the  province  of 


444<  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

imagination.     The  combinations  which  the   latter 
faculty  has  been  employed  in  making,  during  a  long 
fucceflion  of  ages,  approach  to  infinity  ;  and  prefent 
fuch  ample   materials  to  a  judicious  feleclion,  that 
with  a  high  ftandard  of  excellence,  continually  pre- 
fent to  the  thoughts,  induftry,  affifted  by  the  moft 
moderate  degree  of  imagination,  will,  in  time,  pro- 
duce performances,  not  only  more  free  from  faults, 
but  incomparably  more  powerful  in  their  efifects, 
than  the  moil  origiiiai  efforts  of  untutored  genius, 
which,  guided  by  an  uncultivated  tafte,  copies  after 
an" inferior  model  of  perfedion.     What  Reynolds 
obferves  of  Painting,  may  be  applied  to  all  the  other 
Fine  Arts  ;  that,  '^  as  the  Painter,  by  bringing  togeth- 
*'  er  in  one  piece,  thofe  beauties,  which  are  difperfed 
*'  amongft  a  great  variety  of  individuals,  produces  a 
*'  figure  more  beautiful  than  can  be  found  in  nature  ; 
''  fo  that  artift  who  can  unite  in  himfelf  the  excel- 
*^  lencies  of  the  various  painters,  will  approach  near- 
*'  er  to  perfeftion  than  any  of  his  mailers,'** 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  ike  Influence  of  Imagination  on  Human  Chara^er  and 
Happinefs. 

HITHERTO  we  have  confidered  the  power  of 
Imagination  chiefly  as  it  is  connected  with  the  Fine 
Arts.  But  it  deferves  our  attention  flill  more,  on 
account  of  its  extenfive  influence  on  human  charac- 
ter and  happinefs. 

The  lower  animals,  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge, 
are  entirely  occupied  with  the  objects  of  their  pref- 
ent perceptions  :  and  the  cafe  is  nearly  the  fame 
with  the  inferior  orders  of  our  own  Ipecies.     One 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  445 

of  the  principal  efFeds  which  a  Hberal  education  pro- 
duces on  the  mind,  is  to  accullom  us  to  withdraw 
our  attention  from  the  objects  of  fenfe,  and  to  di- 
red:  it,  at  pleafure,  to  thofe  intellectual  combiaations 
which  delight  the  imagination.  Even,  however,  a- 
mong  men  of  cultivated  underftandings,  this  faculty- 
is  pofTeiTed  in  very  unequal  degrees  by  different  in- 
dividuals ;  and  thefe  differences  (whether  refulting 
from  original  conilitution  or  from  early  education) 
lay  the  foundation  of  fome  llriking  varieties  in  hu- 
man character. 

What  we  commonly  call  fenfibility,  depends,  in  a 
great  raeafure,  on  the  power  of  imagination.  Point 
out  to  two  men,  any  objecl  of  compaflion  ; — a  man, 
for  example,  reduced  by  misfortune  from  eafy  cir- 
cumflances  to  indigence.  The  one  feels  merely  in 
proportion  to  what  he  perceives  by  his  fenfes.  The 
other  follows,  in  imagination,  the  unfortunate  man 
to  his  dwelling,  and  partakes  with  him  and  his  fam- 
ily in  their  domeftic  diftrefles.  He  liftens  to  their 
converfation,  while  they  recal  to  remembrance  the 
flattering  profpects  they  once  indulged  ;  the  circle  of 
friends  they  had  been  forced  to  leave  ;  the  liberal 
plans  of  education  which  were  begun  and  interrupt- 
ed ;  and  pictures  out  to  himfelf  all  the  various  re- 
fources  which  dehcacy  and  pride  fuggeft,  to  conceal 
poverty  from  the  world.  As  he  proceeds  in  paint- 
ing, his  fenfibility  increafes,  and  he  weeps,  not  for 
what  he  fees,  but  for  what  he  imagines.  It  will  be 
faid,  that  it  was  his  fenfibility  which  originally  rouf- 
ed  his  imagination  ;  and  the  obfervation  is  undoubt- 
edly true  ;  but  it  is  equally  evident,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  the  warmth  of  his  imagination  increafes 
and  prolongs  his  fenfibility. 

This  is  beautifully  illuftrated  in  the  Sentimental 
Journey  of  Sterne,  While  engaged  in  a  train  of  re- 
fle^fions  on  the  State  Prifons  in  France,  the  acciden- 
tal fight  of  a  flarling  in  a  cage  fuggefls  to  him  the 


4^6  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHItOSOPHY  • 

idea  of  a  captive  in  his  dungeon.  He  indulges  lii^ 
imagination,  "  and  looks  through  the  twilight  of  the 
"  grated  door  to  take  the  pidture." 

'"  I  beheld/'  (fays  he,)  '^  his  body  half-wafted  a- 
**  way  with  long  expedation  and  confinement,  and 
'*  felt  what  kind  of  ficknefs  of  the  heart  it  is,  which 
*'  arifes  from  hope  deferred.  Upon  looking  nearer, 
"  I  faw  him  pale  and  feverifli  ;  in  thirty  years  the 
*'  wertern  breeze  had  not  once  fanned  his  blood  :  he 
*'  had  feen  no  fun,  no  moon,  in  all  that  time,  nor  had 
*'  the  voice  of  friend  or  kinfman  breathed  through 

*'  his  lattice. His  children But  here  my  heart 

*'  began  to  bleed,  and  I  was  forced  to  go  on  with  an- 
*'  other  part  of  the  portrait. 

"  He  was  fitting  upon  the  ground,  in  the  fartheft 
"  corner  of  his  dungeon,  on  a  little  ftraw,  which 
"  was  alternately  his  chair  and  bed  :  a  little  calen-^ 
"  der  of  fmall  fl:icks  was  laid  at  the  head,  notched  all 
"  over  with  the  difmal  days  and  nights  he  had  paf- 
"  fed  there  : — he  had  one  of  thefe  little  fiicks  in  his 
**  hand  and  with  a  rufl:y  nail  he  was  etching  another 
*'  day  of  mifery  to  add  to  the  heap.  As  I  darkened 
**  the  little  light  he  had,  he  lifted  up  a  hopelefs  eye 
*^  towards  the  door,  then  caft  it  down — {hook  his 
*'  head,  and  went  on  with  his  work  of  afEidion." 

The  foregoing  obfervations  may  account,  in  part, 
for  the  efFed:  which  exhibitions  of  fiftiiious  difirefs 
produce  on  fome  perfons,  who  do  not  difcover  much 
fenfibility  to  the  difiireifes  of  real  life«  In  a  Novel, 
or  a  Tragedy,  the  pidure  is  completely  finiflied  in  all 
its  parts  ;  and  we  are  made  acquainted  not  only 
with  every  circumfliance  on  which  the  difi:refs  turns, 
but  with  the  fentiments  and  feelings  of  every  char- 
acter with  refjped  to  his  fituation.  In  real  life  we 
fee,  in  general,  only  detached  fcenes  of  the  Tragedy  ; 
and  the  impreflion  is  flight,  unlefs  imagination  fin- 
iflies  the  charaders,  and  fupplies  the  incidents  that 
are  wanting. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  447 

it  is  not  only  to  fcenes  of  diftrefs  that  imagina- 
tion increafes  our  fenfibility.  It  gives  us  a  doub- 
le ihare  in  the  profperity  of  others,  and  enables  us 
to  partake,  with  a  more  lively  interefl,  in  every  for- 
tunate incident  that  occurs  either  to  individuals  or 
to  communities.  Even  from  the  productions  of  the 
earth,  and  the  viciflitudes  of  the  year,  it  carries  for- 
ward our  thoughts  to  the  enjoyments  they  bring 
to  the  fenfitive  creation,  and  by  interefling  our  be- 
nevolent affections  in  the  fcenes  we  behold,  lends  a 
new  charm  to  the  beauties  of  nature. 

I  have  often  been  inclined  to  think  that  the  appa- 
rent coldnefs  and  felfifhnefs  of  mankind  may  be  tra- 
ced, in  a  great  meafure,  to  a  want  of  attention  and  a 
want  of  imagination.  In  the  cafe  of  misfortunes 
which  happen  to  ourfelves,  or  to  our  near  connec- 
tions, neither  of  thefe  powers  is  neceffary  to  make  us 
acquainted  with  our  fituation  ;  fo  that  we  feel,  of 
neceflity,  the  correfpondent  emotions.  But  without 
an  uncommon  degree  of  both,  it  is  impoffible  for 
any  man  to  comprehend  completely  the  fituation  of 
his  neighbor,  or  to  have  an  idea  of  a  great  part  of 
the  diflrefs  which  exifls  in  the  world.  If  we  feel 
therefore  more  for  ourfelves  than  for  others,  the  dif- 
ference is  to  be  afcribed,  at  leaft  partly,  to  this  ;  that, 
in  the  former  cafe,  the  fa^s  which  are  the  founda- 
tion of  our  feelings,  are  more  fully  before  us  than 
they  poflibly  can  be  in  the  latter. 

In  order  to  prevent  mifapprehenfions  of  my  mean- 
ing, it  is  neceffary  for  me  to  add,  that  I  do  not  mean 
to  deny  that  it  is  a  law  of  our  nature,  in  cafes  in 
which  there  is  an  interference  between  our  own  in- 
tereft  and  that  of  other  men,  to  give  a  certain  degree 
of  preference  to  ourfelves  ;  even  fuppofmg  our 
neighbor's  fituation  to  be  as  completely  known  to  us 
as  our  own.  I  only  affirm,  that,  where  this  prefer- 
ence becomes  blameable  and  unjuff,  the  effect  is  to 


44B  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

be  accounted  for  partly  in  the  way  I  mentioned.* 
One  ilriking  proof  of  this  is,  the  powerful  emo'ions 
which  may  be  occafionally  excited  in  the  minds  of 
the  moil  callous,  when  the  attention  has  once  been 
fixed,  and  the  imagination  awakened,  by  eloquent 
and  circumftantial  and  pathetic  defcription. 

A  very  amiable  and  profound  moralift  in  the  ac- 
count which  he  has  given  of  the  origin  of  our  fjnfe 
of  juftice,  has,  I  think,  drawn  a  lefs  pleafing  pidure 
of  the  natural  conftitution  of  the  human  mind,  than 
is  agreeable  to  truth.  "  To  difturb,"  (fays  he,) 
'^  the  happinefs  of  our  neighbor,  merely  becaufe  it 
*'  ftands  in  the  way  of  our  own  ;  to  take  from  him 
*'  what  is  of  real  ufe  to  him,  merely  becaufe  it  may  be 
"  of  equal  or  of  more  ufe  to  us  ;  or,  to  indulge,  in  this 
"  manner,  at  the  expence  of  other  people^  the  nat- 
*'  ural  preference  which  every  man  has  for  his  own 
*'  happinefs  above  that  of  other  people,  is  what  no 
'«  impartial  fpeclator  can  go  along  with.  Every  man 
"  is,  no  doubt,  firft  and  principally  recommended  to 
''  his  own  care  ;  and  as  he  is  fitter  to  take  care  of 
*'  himfelf  than  of  any  other  perfon,  it  is  fit  and  right 
"  that  it  fhould  be  fo.  Every  man,  therefore,  is 
"  much  more  deeply  interefted  in  whatever  imme- 
"  diately  concerns  himfelf,  than  in  what  concerns 
*'  any  other  man  :  and  to  hear,  perhaps,  of  the 
"  death  of  another  perfon  with  whom  we  have  no 
"  particular  connection,  will  give  us  lefs  concern, 
"  will  fpoil  our  ftomach,  or  break  our  reft,  much 
"  lefs  than  a  very  infignificant  difafter  which  has  be- 
"  fallen  ourfelves.  But  though  the  ruin  of  our 
'^^  neighbor  may  afFecl  us  much  lefs  than  a  very  fmall 
*='  misfortune  of  our  own,  we  mufi:  not  ruin  him  to 
<^.' prevent  that  fmall  misfortune,  nor  even  to  pre- 

*  I  say  parlly  ;  for  habits  of  inattention  to  the  situation  of  oth- 
er men,  undoabtcdiy  prei-uppoce  sojxie  defect  in  the  Eocial  affec. 
tions, 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,  449 

*^  vent  our  own  ruin.  We  muft  here,  as  in  all  oth- 
*'  er  cafes,  view  ourfelves  not  fo  much  according  to 
"  that  light  in  which  we  may  naturally  appear  to  our- 
"  felves,as  according  to  that  in  which  we  naturally  ap- 
"  pear  to  others.  Tho'  every  man  may,  according  to 
"  the  proverb,  be  the  whole  world  to  himfelf,  to  the 
"  reft  of  mankind  he  is  a  moft  infignificant  part 
"  of  it.  Though  his  own  happinefs  may  be  of  more 
"  importance  to  him  than  that  of  all  the  world  be- 
*'  fides,  t@  every  other  perfon  it  is  of  no  more  con- 
"  fequence  than  that  of  any  other  man.  Though  it 
"  may  be  true,  therefore,  that  every  individual,  in 
"  his  own  breaft,  naturally  prefers  himfelf  to  all  man- 
*'  kind,  yet  he  dares  not  look  mankind  in  the  face, 
*^  and  avow  that,  he  ads  according  to  this  principle. 
"  He  feels  that,  in  this  preference  they  can  never  go 
"  along  with  him,  and  that  how  natural  foever  it 
*'  may  be  to  him,  it  muft  always  appear  exceflive 
"  and  extravagant  to  them.  When  he  views  him- 
*'  felf  in  the  light  in  which  he  is  confcious  that  oth- 
*'  ers  will  view  him,  he  fees  that  to  them  he  is  but 
"  one  of  the  multitude,  in  no  reiped:  better  than 
*'  any  other  in  it.  If  he  would  acl  fo  as  that  the 
*'  impartial  fpedator  may  enter  into  the  principles  of 
"  his  conduA,  which  is  what  of  all  things  he  has  the 
"  greateft  defire  to  do,  he  muft,  upon  this,  as  upon 
•'  all  other  occalions,  humble  the  arrogance  of  his 
"  felf-love,  and  bring  it  down  to  fomething  which 
"  other  men  can  go  along  with." 

I  am  ready  to  acknowledge,  that  there  is  much 
truth  in  this  paffage  ;  and  that  a  prudential  regard 
to  the  opinion  of  others,  might  teach  a  man  of  good 
fenfe,  without  the  aid  of  more  amiable  motives,  to 
conceal  his  unreafonable  partialities  in  favor  of  him- 
felf, and  to  acl  agreeably  to  what  he  conceives  to  be 
the  fentiments  of  impartial  fpedators.  But  I  cannot 
help  thinking,  that  the  fad  is  much  too  ftrongly 
ftated  with  refped  to  the  natural  partiality  of  felf- 
1 1  i 


450  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

love,  fuppofing  the  fituation  of  our  neighbors  to  be 
as  completely  prefented  to  our  view,  as  our  own 
muft  of  necellity  be.  When  the  Orator  wifhes  to 
combat  the  felfifti  paffions  of  his  audience,  and  to 
roufe  them  to  a  fenfe  of  what  they  owe  to  mankind ; 
what  mode  of  perfuafion  does  nature  didate  to  him  ? 
Is  it  to  remind  them  of  the  importance  of  the  good 
opinion  of  the  world,  and  of  the  necefllty,  in  order 
to  obtain  it,  of  accommodating  their  condud  to  the 
fentiments  of  others,  rather  than  to  their  own  feel- 
ings ?  Such  conliderations  undoubtedly  might,  with 
fome  men,  produce  a  certain  effed  ;  and  might  lead 
them  to  affume  the  appearance  of  virtue  ;  but  they 
would  never  excite  a  fentiment  of  indignation  at  the 
thought  of  injuflice,  or  a  fudden  and  involuntary 
burft  of  difintereiled  aifeclion.  If  the  Orator  can 
only  fucceed  in  fixing  their  attention  to  fad:s,  and 
in  bringing  thefe  hd:s  home  to  their  imagination  by 
the  power  of  his  eloquence,  he  has  completely  at- 
tained his  objed.  No  fooner  are  the  fads  appre- 
hended, than  the  benevolent  principles  of  our  na- 
ture diiplay  themfelves  in  all  their  beauty.  The 
moft  cautious  and  timid  lofe,  for  a  moment,  all 
thought  of  themfelves,  and  defpifing  every  confider- 
ation  of  prudence  or  of  fafety,  become  wholly  en« 
grolTed  with  the  fortunes  of  others. 

Many  other  fads,  which  are  commonly  alleged 
as  proofs  of  the  original  felfifhnefs  of  mankind,  may 
be  explained,  in  part,  in  a  fimilar  way  ;  and  may  be 
traced  to  the  habits  of  inattention,  or  to  a  want  of 
imagination,  ariling,  probably,  from  fome  fault  in 
early  educationl 

What  has  now  been  remarked  with  refped  to  the 
focial  principles,  may  be  applied  to  all  our  other  paf- 
lions,  excepting  thofe  which  take  their  rife  from  the 
body.  They  are  commonly  ftrong  in  proportion  to 
the  warmth  and  vigor  of  the  imagination* 

It  is,  however,  extremely  curious,^  that  when  an 
imagination,  which  is  naturally  phiegmatic,or  which. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  451 

like  thafe  of  the  vulgar,  has  little  adivity  from  a 
want  of  culture,  is  fairly  roufed  by  the  defcriptions  of 
the  Orator  or  of  the  Poet,  it  is  more  apt  to  produce 
the  violence  of  enthufiafm,  than  in  minds  of  a  fupe- 
rior  order.  By  giving  this  faculty  occafional  ex- 
€rcife,  we  acquire  a  great  degree  of  command  over 
it.  As  we  can  withdraw  the  attention  at  pleafure 
from  objecls  of  fenfe,  and  tranfport  ourfelves  into  a 
world  of  our  own,  fo  when  we  wifli  to  moderate 
our  enthuiiafm,  we  can  difmifs  the  objeds  of  ima- 
gination, and  return  to  our  ordinary  perceptions 
and  occupations.  But  in  a  mind  to  which  thefe  in- 
telledlual  vifions  are  not  familiar,  and  which  bor- 
rows  them  completely  from  the  genius  of  another, 
imagination,  when  once  excited,  becomes  perfedlly 
ungovernable,  and  produces  foinething  like  a  tem- 
porary infanity.  Hence  the  wonderful  efFed:s  of 
popular  eloquence  on  the  lower  orders  ;  effects 
which  are  much  more  remarkable,  than  what  it  ever 
produces  on  men  of  education ^ 


SECTION  V. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Suhje6i. — Inconveniences  refuli^ 
ingfrom  an  ill-regulated  Imagination, 

IT  was  undoubtedly  the  intention  of  Nature  that 
the  objects  of  perception  fliould  produce  much  ftron- 
ger  impreffions  on  the  mind  than  its  own  operations. 
And,  accordingly,  they  always  do  fo,  when  proper 
care  has  been  taken  in  early  life,  to  exercife  the  dif- 
ferent principles  of  our  conftitution.  But  it  is  pof- 
fible,  by  long  habits  of  folitary  refleclion,  to  reverfe 
this  order  of  things,  and  to  weaken  the  attention  to 
fenfible  objedts  to  fo  great  a  degree,  as  to  leave  the 
condud  almoft  wholly  under  the  influence  of  ima^ 
gination.     Removed  to  a  dillance  from  fociety,  and 


453  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

from  the  purfuits  of  life,  when  we  have  been  lon^ 
accuftomed  to  converfe  with  our  own  thoughts,  and 
have  found  our  ad:ivity  gratified  by  intellectual  ex- 
ertions, which  afford  fcope  to  all  our  powers  and  af- 
fections, without  expoling  us  to  the  inconveniences 
refulcing  from  the  buftle  of  the  world,  we  are  apt  to 
contra<^  an  unnatural  predile6lion  for  meditation, and 
to  lofe  all  intereft  in  external  occurrences.  In  fuch 
a  fituation  too,  the  mind  gradually  lofes  that  com- 
mand which  education,  when  properly  conducted, 
gives  it  over  the  train  of  its  ideas  ;  till  at  length  the 
moft  extravagant  dreams  of  imagination  acquire  as 
powerful  an  influence  in  exciting  all  its  paffions,  as 
if  they  were  realities.  A  wild  and  mountainous 
country,  which  prefents  but  a  limited  variety  of  ob- 
jects, and  thefe  only  of  fuch  a  fort  as  "  awake  to  fol- 
"  emn  thought,"  has  a  remarkable  effect  in  cherifh- 
ing  this  enthufiafm. 

When  fuch  diforders  of  the  imagination  have  been 
long  confirmed  by  habit,  the  evil  may  perhaps  be 
beyond  a  remedy  ;  but  in  their  inferior  degrees, 
much  may  be  expected  from  our  own  efforts  ;  in 
particular,  from  mingling  gradually  in  the  bufinefs 
and  amufements  of  the  world  ;  or,  if  we  have  fuffi. 
cient  force  of  mind  for  the  exertion,  from  refolutely 
plunging  into  thofe  adtive  and  interefting  and  haz- 
ardous fcenes,  which,  by  compelling  us  to  attend  to 
external  circumftances,  may  weaken  the  impreffions 
of  imagination,  and  ftrengthen  thofe  produced  by  re- 
alities. The  advice  of  the  poet,  in  thefe  cafes,  is  Cr 
qually  beautiful  and  juft : 

**  Go,  soft  enthusiast !  quit  the  cypress  groves, 

"  Nortotherivulet^s  loDely  moanings  tune 

"  Your  sad  complaint.     Go,  seek  the  cheerful  haunts 

"  Of  men,  and  mingle  with  the  bustling  crowd  ; 

"  Lay  schemes  for  wealth,  or  power,  or  fame,  the  wish 

"  Of  nobler  minds,  and  puth  them  night  and  day. 

^''  Or  join  the  caravan  in  quest  of  scenes 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  453 

"  New  to  your  eyes,  and  shifting  every  hoqr, 

"  Beyond  the  Alps,  beyond  the  Appenines. 

"  Or,  more  adventurous,  rush  into  the  the  field 

"  Where  war  grows  hot  ;  and  raging  thiough  the  sky, 

"  The  lofty  trumpet  swells  the  madd'ning  soui ; 

"  And  in  the  hardy  camp  and  toilsome  march, 

"  Forget  all  softer  and  less  manly  cares."* 

The  difordered  ftate  of  mind  to  which  thefe  ob- 
servations refer  is  the  more  interefting,  that  it  is 
chiefly  incident  to  men  of  uncommon  fenfibility  and 
genius.  It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  there  is  a 
connection  between  genius  and  melancholy  ;  and 
there  is  one  fenfe  of  the  word  melancholy ^  in  which 
the  remark  is  undoubtedly  true  ;  a  fenfe  which  it 
may  be  diflSicult  to  define,  but  in  which  it  implies 
nothing  either  gloomy  or  malevolent.!  This,  I 
think,  is  not  only  confirmed  by  fa6ts,but  may  be  in- 
ferred from  fome  principles  which  were  formerly 
ftated  on  the  fubjecEl  of  invention  ;  for  as  the  dif- 
pofition  now  alluded  to  has  a  tendency  to  retard 
the  current  of  thought,  and  to  colled  the  attention 
of  the  mind,  it  is  peculiarly  favorable  to  the  dlfcov- 
ery  of  thofe  profound  conclufions  which  refult  from 
an  accurate  examination  of  the  lefs  obvious  relations 
among  our  ideas.  From  the  fame  principles  too, 
may  be  traced  fome  of  the  effecls  which  lituation  and 
early  education  produce  on  the  intellectual  charad- 
er.  Among  the  natives  of  wild  and  folitary  coun- 
tries we  may  exped  to  meet  with  fublime  exertions 
of  poetical  imagination  and  of  philofophical  refearch  ; 
while  thofe  men  whofe  attention  has  been  diflipated 
from  infancy  amidft  the  buftle  of  the  world,  and 
whofe  current  of  thought  has  been  trained  to  yield 

*  Armstrong. 

f  A<(«  ri   Ttxtris  ocrot  'jrs^trrot  ysyovxaiv  xvocbs,  rt  kxtx  (piXocoptxy,  n 
f!^oX/T/x>!v,  -n  votvcriV)  ♦}  rs^txs,  (pxivovrxt  [xtXtty^o^iKOi  ovris. 

AiusroT.  Problem,  sect.  xxx.. 


4S4>  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

and  accommodate  itfelf,  every  moment,  to  the  rapid 
fucceflian  of  trifles,  which  diverfify  faihionable  life, 
acquire,  without  any  effort  on  their  part,  the  intel- 
le(flu3l  habits  which  are  favorable  to  gaiety,  vivaci- 
ty, and  wit. 

When  a  man,  under  the  habitual  influence  of  a 
warm  imagination,  is  obliged  to  mingle  occaflonally 
in  the  fcenes  of  real  bufinefs,  he  is  perpetually  in 
danger  of  being  mifled  by  his  own  enthufiafm. — 
What  we  call  good  fenfe  in  the  conduct  of  life,  con- 
iiflis  chiefly  in  that  temper  of  mind  which  enables  its 
poflefl*or  to  view,  at  all  times,  with  perfe<5l  coolnefs 
and  accuracy,  all  the  various  circumfl;ances  of  his  iitu- 
ation  ;  fo  that  each  of  them  may  produce  its  due 
impreflion  on  him,  without  any  exaggeration  arif- 
ing  from  his  own  peculiar  habits.  But  to  a  man  of 
an  ill-regulated  imagination,  external  circumflances 
only  ferve  as  hints  to  excite  his  own  thoughts,  and 
the  condud  he  purfues  has,  in  general,  far  lefs  ref- 
erence to  his  real  fituation,  than  to  fome  imaginary 
one,  in  which  he  conceives  himfelf  to  be  placed  :  in 
confequence  of  which,  while  he  appears  to  himfelf  to 
be  ading  with  the  moft  perfect  wifdom  and  confift- 
ency,  he  may  frequently  exhibit  to  others  all  the 
appearances  of  folly.  Such,  pretty  nearly,  feems  to 
be  the  idea  which  the  Author*  of  the  "  Reflexions 
on  the  Character  and  Writings  of  Roufleau,"  has 
formed  of  that  extraordinary  man.  "  His  faculties,'* 
we  are  told,  "  were  flow  in  their  operation,  but  his 
*'  heart  was  ardent :  it  was  in  confequence  of  his 
"  own  meditations,  that  he  became  impaflioned  :  he 
*^  difcovered  no  fudden  emotions,  but  all  his  feelings 
*'  grew  upon  reflexion.  It  has,  perhaps,  happened 
"  to  him  to  fall  in  love  gradually  with  a  woman,  by 
"  dwelling  on  the  idea  of  her  during  her  abfence. 
*'  Sometimes  he  would  part  with  you  with  all  his 

*  Madame  de  Stail. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  455 

"  former  afFedions ;  but  if  an  expreflion  had  efcaped 
*'  you,  which  might  bear  an  unfavorable  conftruc- 
*'  tion,  he  would  recoiled  it,  examine  it,  exaggerate 
"  it,  perhaps  dwell  upon  it  for  a  month,  and  con- 
*'  elude  by  a  total  breach  with  you.  Hence  it  was, 
"  that  there  was  fcarce  a  poflibility  of  undeceiving 
**  him  ;  for  the  light  which  broke  in  upon  him  at 
**  once  was  not  fufficient  to  efface  the  wrong  im- 
*'  preffions  which  had  taken  place  fo  gradually  in  his 
"  mind.  It  was  extremely  difficult,  too,  to  contin- 
**  ue  long  on  an  intimate  footing  with  him.  A  word, 
*'  a  gefture,  furniflied  him  with  matter  of  profound 
*'  meditation  :  he  connected  the  moft  trifling  cir- 
**  cumftances  like  fo  many  mathematical  propofitions, 
*'  and  conceived  his  conclufions  to  be  fupported  by 
*'  the  evidence  of  demonftration.  I  believe,"  contin- 
ues this  ingenious  writer,  "  that  imagination  was 
•^  the  ftrongefl  of  his  faculties,  and  that  it  had  almoft 
"  abforbed  all  the  reft.  He  dreamed  rather  than  ex- 
"  ifted,  and  the  events  of  his  life  might  be  faid, 
"  more  properly,  to  have  paffed  in  his  mind,  than 
*^  without  him  :  a  mode  of  being,  one  fliould  have 
"  thought,  that  ought  to  have  fecured  him  from 
"  diftruft,  as  it  prevented  him  from  obfervation  ; 
*'  but  the  truth  was,  it  did  not  hinder  him  from  at- 
*'  tempting  to  obferve ;  it  only  rendered  his  obfer- 
"  vations  erroneous  That  his  foul  was  tender,  no 
**  one  can  doubt,  after  having  read  his  works  ;  but 
^  his  imagination  fometimes  interpofed  between  hi& 
"  affections,  and  deflroyed  their  influence  :  he  ap- 
"  peared  fometimes  void  of  fenfibility  ;  but  it  was 
*'  becaufe  he  did  not  perceive  objects  inch  as  they 
"  were.  '  Had  he  feen  them  with  our  eyes,  his 
"  heart  would  have  been  more  affected  than  ours.** 
In  this  very'ftriking  defcription  we  fee  the  melan- 
choly picture  of  fenfibility  and  genius  apprc^aching 
to  infanity.  It  is  a  cafe,  probably,  that  but  rarely 
occurs,  in  the  extent  here  defcribed  :  but,  I  believe. 


456  ELEMENTS  OF  TKS  PHILOSOPHY 

there  is  no  man  who  has  lived  much  in  the  world, 
who  will  not  trace  many  refembling  features  to  it, 
in  the  circle  of  his  own  acquaintances  :  perhaps  there 
are  few,  who  have  not  been  occafionally  confcious 
of  fome  refemblance  to  it  in  themfelves. 

To  thefe  obfervations  we  may  add,  that  by  an  ex- 
ceffive  indulgence  in  the  pleafures  of  irhagination,, 
the  tafte  may  acquire  a  faftidious  refinement  unfuit- 
able  t©  the  prefent  fituation  of  human  nature  ;  and 
thofe  intelledtual  and  moral  habits,  which  ought  to 
be  formed  by  a<^ual  experience  of  the  world,  may 
be  gradually  fo  accommodated  to  the  dreams  of  po- 
etry and  romance,  as  to  difqualify  us  for  the  fcenes 
in  which  we  are  deftined  to  ad:.  Such  a  diftemper- 
ed  ftate  of  the  mind  is  an  endles  fource  of  error  ; 
more  particularly  when  we  are  placed  in  thofe  crit- 
ical fituations,  in  which  our  condud:  determines  our 
future  happinefs  or  mifery ;  and  which,  on  account 
of  this  extenfive  influence  on  human  life,  form  the 
principal  ground-work  of  fiditious  compofition.  The 
efFed  of  novels,  in  mifleading  the  pallions  of  youth, 
with  refpecl  to  the  moft  interefting  and  important 
of  all  relations,  is  one  of  the  many  inftances  of  the  in- 
conveniences refulting  from  an  ill- regulated  imagin- 
ation. 

The  paffion  of  love  has  been,  in  every  age,  the 
favorite  fubjecft  of  the  poets,  and  has  given  birth  to 
the  fined  productions  of  human  genius.  Thefe  are 
the  natural  delight  of  the  young  and  fufceptible,  long 
before  the  influence  of  the  pallions  is  felt  ;  and  from 
thefe  a  romantic  mind  forms  to  itfelf  an  ideal  model 
of  beauty  and  perfeclion,  and  becomes  enamoured 
with  its  own  creation.  On  a  heart  which  has  been 
long  accuftomed  to  be  thus  warmed  by  the  imagin- 
ation, the  excellencies  of  real  characters  make  but  a 
flight  impreflion  :  and,  accordingly,  it  will  be  found, 
that  men  of  a  romantic  turn,  unlefs  when  under  the 
influence  of  violent  paflions,  are  feldoni  attached  to 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  457 

a  particular  objed.  Where,  indeed,  fuch  a  turn  is 
united  with  a  warmth  of  temperament,  the  efFe<Ets 
are  different ;  but  they  are  equally  fatal  to  happinefs. 
As  the  diftindions  which  exill  among  real  characters 
are  confounded  by  falfe  and  exaggerated  conceptions 
of  ideal  perfedion,  the  choice  is  direded  to  fome  ob- 
jed  by  caprice  and  accident ;  a  flight  refemblance  is 
miftaken  for  an  exadt  coincidence  ;  and  the  defcrip- 
tions  of  the  poet  and  novelift  are  applied  literally 
to  an  individual,  who  perhaps  falls  fliort  of  the  com- 
mon ftandard  of  excellence.  "  I  am  certain,"  fays 
the  Author  laft  quoted,  in  her  account  of  the  char* 
ader  of  Rouffeau,  "  that  he  never  formed  an  attach- 
**  ment  which  was  not  founded  on  caprice.  It  was 
**  illufions  alone  that  could  captivate  his  paffions  ; 
*'  and  it  was  neceflary  for  him  always  to  accomplifli 
**  his  mittrefs  from  his  own  fancy.  I  am  certain  al- 
«  fo,"  fhe  adds,  "  that  the  woman  whom  he  loved 
"  the  moft,  and  perhaps  the  only  woman  whom  he 
*'  loved  conftantly,  was  his  own  Julie  J* 

In  the  cafe  of  this  particular  paffion,  the  efFeds  of 
a  romantic  imagination  are  obvious  to  the  moft  care- 
lefs  obferver  ;  and  they  have  often  led  moralifts  to 
regret,  that  a  temper  of  mind  fo  dangerous  to  hap- 
pinefs  fliould  have  received  fo  much  encouragement 
from  fome  writers  of  our  own  age,  who  might  have 
employed  their  genius  to  better  purpofes.  Thefe, 
however,  are  not  the  only  effeds  which  fuch  habits 
of  ftudy  have  on  the  charader.  Some  others,  which 
are  not  fo  apparent  at  firft  view,  have  a  tendency, 
not  only  to  miflead  us  where  our  own  happinels  is 
at  ftake,  but  to  defeat  the  operation  of  thofe  adiv^ 
principles  which  were  intended  to  unite  us  to  focie- 
ty.  The  manner  in  which  imagination  influences  the 
mind,  in  the  inftances  which  I  allude  to  at  prefent, 
is  curious,  and  deferves  a  more  particular  explana*. 
tion. 

KKk 


4SS  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSFOPHY 

I  {hall  have  occafion  afterwards  to  llievv,*  in  treat- 
ing of  our  moral  powers,  that  experience  diminifh- 
es  the  influence  of  paflive  impreflions  on  the  mind, 
but  ftrengthens  our  adive  principles.  A  courfe  of 
debauchery  deadens  the  fenfe  of  pleafure,  but  increa- 
fes  the  defire  of  gratification.  An  immoderate  ufe 
of  ftrong  liquors  deftroys  the  feniibility  of  the  palate, 
but  ftrengthens  the  habit  of  intemperance.  The  en- 
joyments we  derive  from  any  favourite  purfuit  grad- 
ually decay  as  we  advance  in  years  :  and  yet  we 
continue  to  profecute  our  favorite  purfuits  with  in- 
creafing  fteadinefs  and  vigor. 

On  thefe  two  laws  of  our  nature  is  founded  our 
capacity  of  moral  improvement.  In  proportion  as 
we  are  accuftomed  to  obey  o\xy  fenfe  of  duty,  the  in- 
fluence of  the  temptations  to  vice  is  diminilhed  ; 
while,  at  the  fame  time,  our  habit  of  virtuous  con- 
dud  is  confirmed.  How  many  paflive  impreflions^ 
for  inftance,  muft  be  overcome,  before  the  virtue  or 
beneficence  can  exert  itfelf  uniformly  and  habituaUy ! 
How  many  circumftances  are  there  in  the  diftrefles 
of  others,  which  have  a  tendency  to  alienate  our 
hearts  from  them,  and  which  prompt  us  to  withdraw 
from  the  fight  of  the  miferable  !  The  impreflions  we 
receive  from  thefe,  are  unfavorable  to  virtue  :  their 
force,  however,  every  day  diminiflies,  and  it  may 
perhaps,  by  perfeverance,  be  wholly  deftroyed.  It 
is  thus  that  the  character  of  the  beneficent  man  is 
formed.  The  pafiive  impreflions  which  he  felt  ori- 
ginally, and  which  counteracted  his  fenfe  of  duty, 
have  loft  their  influence,  and  a  habit  of  beneficence 
is  become  part  of  his  nature. 

It  muft  be  owned,  that  this  reafoning  may,  in  part, 
be  retorted  ;  for  among  thofe  paflive  impreflions, 
which  are  weakened  by  repetition,  there  are  fome 

*  The  following  reasoning  was  suggested  to  me  by  a  passage  in 
Butler's  Analogy,  vfhx6U  the  reader  will  find  in  Note  [U]  at  the 
ejid  of  the  volume. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  459 

which  have  a  beneficial  tendency.     The  uneafinefs, 
in  particular,  which  the  fight  of  diftrefs  occafions,  is 
a  ftrong  incentive  to  ads  of  humanity  ;  and  it  can- 
not be  denied  that  it  is  lelTened  by  experience.     This 
might  naturally  lead  us  to  expe6l,  that  the  young  ^ 
and  unpradifed  would  be  more  dilpofed  to  perform 
beneficent  acftions,  than  thofe  who  are  advanced  in 
life,  and  who  have  been  familiar  with  fcenes  of  mif- 
ery.     And,  in  truth,  the  fadl  would  be  fo,  were  it 
not  that  the  effeS:  ojf  cuftom  on  this  paflive  impref- 
fion  is  counteracted  by  its  efFed  on  others  ;    and, 
above  all,  by  its  influence  in  ftrengthening  the  adive 
habit  of  beneficence.     An  old  and  experienced  phy-» 
lician  is  lefs  affected  by  the  fight  of  bodily  pain,  than 
a  younger  practitioner  ;  but  he  has  acquired  a  more 
confirmed  habit  of  aflifting  the  fick  and  helplefs,  and 
would  offer  greater  violence  to  his  nature,  if  he 
fhould  withhold  from  them  any  relief  that  he  has  in 
his  power  to  beftow.     In  this  cafe,  we  fee  a  beauti- 
ful provifion  made  for  our  moral  improvement,  as 
the  effects  of  experience  on  one  part  of  our  conftitu- 
tion,  are  made  to  counterad  itseffedls  on  another. 

If  the  foregoing  obfervations  be  well  founded,  it 
will  follow,  that  habits  of  virtue  are  not  to  be  form- 
ed in  retirement,  but  by  mingling  in  the  fcenes  of 
adive  life,  and  that  an  habitual  attention  to  exhibi- 
tions  of  fiditious  diflrefs,  is  not  merely  ufelefs  to  the 
charader,  but  pofitively  hurtful. 

It  will  not,  I  think,  be  difputed,  that  the  frequent 
perufal  of  pathetic  compofitions  diminifhes  the  unea- 
finefs which  they  are  naturally  fitted  to  excite.  A 
perfon  who  indulges  habitually  in  fuch  fludies,  may 
feel  a  growing  delire  of  his  ufual  gratification,  but 
he  is  every  day  lefs  and  lefs  affeded  by  the  fcenes 
which  are  presented  to  him.  I  believe  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  an  ador  long  hackneyed  on  the  flage, 
who  is  capable  of  being  completely  interefted  by  the 
.diflreffes  of  a  tragedy.     The  effed  of  fuch  compofiv 


460  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHT 

tions  and  reprefentations,  in  rendering  the  mind 
callous  to  adlual  diftrefs,  is  ftill  greater  ;  for  as  the 
imagination  of  the  Poet  almoft  always  carries  him 
beyond  truth  and  nature,  a  familiarity  with  the  tra- 
gic fcenes  which  he  exhibits,  can  hardly  fail  to  dead- 
en the  impreflion  produced  by  the  comparatively 
trifling  fufferings  which  the  ordinary  courfe  of  hu- 
man affairs  prefents  to  us.  In  real  life,  a  provifion  is 
made  for  this  gradual  decay  of  fenlibilicy,  by  the 
proportional  decay  of  other  paffive  impreffions, 
which  have  an  oppofite  tendency,  and  by  the  addi- 
tional force  which  our  adive  habits  are  daily  acquir- 
ing. Exhibitions  of  fiditious  diftrefs  while  they 
produce  the  former  change  on  the  character,  have 
no  influence  in  producing  the  latter  :  on  the  contra- 
ry, they  tend  to  ftrengthen  thofe  paffive  impreffions 
which  countera(5t  beneficence.  The  fcenes  into  which 
the  Novelift  introduces  us  are,  in  general,  perfectly 
unlike  thofe  which  occur  in  the  world.  As  his  ob- 
jed:  is  to  pleafe,  he  removes  from  his  defcriptions 
every  circumftance  which  is  difgufting,  and  prefents 
"US  with  hiftories  of  elegant  and  dignified  diftrefs.  It 
is  not  fuch  fcenes  that  human  life  exhibits.  We 
have  to  ad,  not  with  refined  and  elevated  charac- 
ters, but  with  the  mean,  the  illiterate,  the  vulgar, 
and  the  profligate.  The  perufal  of  fiditious  hiftory 
has  a  tendency  to  increafe  that  difguft  which  we  na- 
turally feel  at  the  concomitants  of  diftrefs,  and  to 
cultivate  a  falfe  refinement  of  tafte,  inconfiftent  with 
our  condition  as  members  of  fociety.  Nay,  it  is 
poffible  for  this  refinement  to  be  carried  fo  far,  as 
to  witlK^raw  a  man  from  the  duties  of  life,  and  even 
from  the  fight  of  thofe  diftrefles  which  he  might  al- 
leviate. And,  accordingly,  many  are  to  be  found, 
who,  if  the  fituations  of  romance  were  realifed, 
would  not  fail  to  difplay  the  virtues  of  their  favorite 
charaders,  whofe  fenfe  of  duty  is  not  fufficiently 
firong  to  engage  them  in  the  humble  and  private 
fcenes  of  human  mifery. 


OF  THB  HUMAN  MIND.  461 

To  thefe  efFeds  of  fi(5litious  hiftory  we  may  add» 
that  it  gives  no  exercife  to  our  adive  habits.  In  re- 
al life,  we  proceed  from  the  paflive  irapreflion  to 
thofe  exertions  which  it  was  intended  to  produce* 
In  the  contemplation  of  imaginary  fufferings,  we  ftop 
ihort  at  the  impreflion,  and  whatever  benevolent 
difpofitions  we  may  feel,  we  have  no  opportunity  of 
carrying  them  into  adion. 

From  thefe  reafonings  it  appears,  that  an  habitual 
attention  to  exhibitions  of  fictitious  diftrefs,  is  in  ev- 
ery view  calculated  to  check  our  moral  improvement. 
It  diminifhes  that  unealinefs  which  we  feel  at  the 
iight  of  diftrefs,  and  which  prompts  us  to  relieve  it. 
It  ftrengthens  that  difguft  which  the  loathfome  con- 
comitants of  diftrefs  excite  in  the  mind,  and  which 
prompts  us  to  avoid  the  fight  of  mifery  ;  while,  at 
the  fame  time,  it  has  no  tendency  to  confirm  thofe 
habits  of  adive  beneficence,  without  which,  the  beft 
difpofitions  are  ufelefs.  I  would  not,  however,  be 
underftood  to  diftpprove  entirely  of  fiditious  narra- 
tives, or  of  pathetic  compofitions.  On  the  contrary, 
I  think  that  the  perufal  of  them  may  be  attended 
with  advantage,  when  the  efteds  which  I  have  men- 
tioned are  corrected  by  habits  of  real  bufinefs.  They 
foothe  the  mind  when  rufiled  by  the  rude  inter- 
courfe  of  fociety,  and  ftealing  the  attention  infenfibly 
from  our  own  cares,  fubftitute,  inftead  of  difcontent 
and  diftrefs,  a  tender  and  pleafing  melancholy.  By 
exhibitions  of  characters  a  little  elevated  above  the 
common  ftandard,  they  have  a  tendency  to  cultivate 
the  tafte  in  life ;  to  quicken  our  difguft  ^t  what  is 
mean  or  offenfive,  and  to  form  the  mind  infenfibly 
to  elegance  and  dignity.  Their  tendency  to  culti- 
vate the  powers  of  moral  perception  has  never  been 
difputed  ;  and  when  the  influence  of  fucli  percep- 
tions is  powerfully  felt,  and  is  united  with  an  active 
and  manly  temper,  they  render  the  character  not 
only  more  amiable,  but  more  happy  in  itfelf,  and 


462  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY 

more  ufeful  to  others  ;  for  although  a  rectitude  of 
judgment  with  refped  to  conduct,  and  ftrong  mor- 
al feelings,  do,  by  no  means,  alone  conftitute  vir- 
tue ;  yet  they  are  frequently  necelTary  to  direct  our 
behavior  in  the  more  critical  fituations  of  life  ;  and 
they  increafe  the  intereft  we  take  in  the  general 
profperity  ot  virtue  in  the  world.  I  believe,  like- 
wife,  that  by  means  of  fictitious  hiftory,  difplays  of 
charafter  may  be  moft  fuccefsfuUy  given,  and  the 
various  weakneffes  of  the  heart  expofed.  I  only 
meant  to  infinuate,  that  a  tafte  for  them  may  be  car- 
ried too  far  ;  that  the  fenfibility  which  terminates 
in  imagination,  is  but  a  refined  and  felfifh  luxury  ; 
and  that  nothing  can  efFe6tually  advance  our  moral 
improvement,  but  an  attention  to  the  adive  duties 
which  belong  to  our  flations. 


SECTION  VI. 

Continuation  of  the  fame  Subjed. — Important  Ufes  to  which 
the  Power  of  hnagination  isfubfervient. 

THE  faculty  of  Imagination  is  the  great  fpring  of 
human  adivity,  and  the  principal  fource  of  human 
improvement.  As  it  delights  in  prefenting  to  the 
mind  fcenes  and  characters  more  perfect  than  thofe 
which  we  are  acquainted  with,  it  prevents  us  from 
ever  being  completely  fatisfied  with  our  prefent  con- 
dition, or  with  our  paft  attainments,  and  engages  us 
continually  in  the  purfuit  of  fome  untried  enjoyment, 
or  of  foine  ideal  excellence.  Hence  the  ardor  of  the 
felfifh  to  better  their  fortunes,  and  to  add  to  their 
perfonal  accompliihments  ;  and  hence  the  zeal  of  the 
Patriot  and  the  Philofopher  to  advance  the  virtue 
and  the  happinefs  of  the  human  race.  Deltroy  this 
faculty,  and  the  condition  of  man  will  become  as 
ftationary  as  that  of  the  brutes. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  463 

When  the  notions  of  enjoyment  or  of  excellence 
which  imagination  has  formed,  are  greatly  raifed  a- 
bove  the  ordinary  ftandard,  they  intereft  the  paffions 
too  deeply  to  leave  us  at  all  times  the  cool  exercife 
of  reafon,  and  produce  that  ftate  of  the  mind  which 
is  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  Enthuliafm  ;  a 
temper  which  is  one  of  the  moft  fruitful  fources  of 
error  and  difappointment ;  but  w^hich  is  a  fource,  at 
the  fame  time,  of  heroic  actions  and  of  exalted  char- 
afters.  To  the  exaggerated  conceptions  of  elo- 
quence which  perpetually  revolved  in  the  mind  of 
Cicero ;  to  that  idea  which  haunted  his  thoughts  of 
aliquid  immenfum  infinitmique  ;  we  are  indebted  for 
fome  of  the  moft  fplendid  difplays  of  human  genius  : 
and  it  is  probable  that  fomething  of  the  fame  kind 
has  been  felt  by  every  man  who  has  rifen  much  a- 
bove  the  level  of  humanity,  either  in  fpeculation  of 
in  adtion.  It  is  happy  for  the  individual,  when  thefe 
enthufiaftic  defires  are  directed  to  events  which  do 
not  depend  on  the  caprice  of  fortune. 

The  pleafure  we  receive  from  the  higher  kinds  of 
poetry  takes  rife,  in  part,  from  that  diffatisfaftion 
which  the  objefts  of  imagination  infpire  us  with,  for 
the  fcenes,  the  events,  and  the  characters,  with  which 
our  fenfes  are  converfant.  Tired  and  difgufted 
with  this  world  of  imperfeftion,  we  delight  to  efcape 
to  another  of  the  poet's  creation,  where  the  charms 
of  nature  wear  an  eternal  bloom,  and  where  fources 
of  enjoyment  are  opened  to  us,  fuited  to  the  vaft  ca- 
pacities of  the  human  mind.  On  this  natural  love 
of  poetical  fiftion.  Lord  Bacon  has  founded  a  very 
ingenious  argument  for  the  foul's  immortality  ;  and, 
indeed,  one  of  the  moft  important  purpofes  to  which 
it  is  fubfervient,  is  to  elevate  the  mind  above  the 
purfuits  of  our  prefent  condition,  and  to  dired  the 
views  to  higher  objeds.  In  the  mean  time,  it  is 
rendered  fubfervient  alto,  in  an  eminent  degree,  to 
the  improvement  and  happineis  of  mankind,  by  the 


464j  elements  of  the  philosophy 

tendency  which  it  has  to  accelerate  the  progrefs  of 
fociety. 

As  the  pictures  which  the  Poet  prefents  to  us  are 
never  (even  in  works  of  pure  defcription)  faithful 
copies  from  nature,  but  are  always  oieant  to  be  im- 
provements on  the  original  flie  affords,  it  cannot  be 
doubted  that  they  mutt  have  fome  efFed  in  refining 
and  exalting  our  tafle,  both  with  refpe^t  to  materi- 
al beauty,  and  to  the  objeds  of  our  purfuit  in  life. 
It  has  been  alleged,  that  the  works  of  our  defcrip- 
tive  poets  have  contributed  to  difFufe  that  tafle  for 
pi6lurefque  beauty,  which  is  fo  prevalent  in  Eng- 
land, and  to  recal  the  public  admiration  from  the  fan- 
taftic  decorations  of  art,  to  the  more  powerful  and 
permanent  charms  of  cultivated  nature  ;  and  it  is 
certain,  that  the  firfl  ardours  of  many  an  illuflrious 
character  have  been  kindled  by  the  compofitions  of 
Homer  and  Virgil.  It  is  difficult  to  fay  to  what  a 
degree,  in  the  earlier  periods  of  fociety,  the  rude 
compofitions  of  the  bard  and  the  minflrel  may  have 
been  inftrumental  in  humanizing  the  minds  of  fav- 
age  warriors,  and  in  accelerating  the  growth  of  cul- 
tivated manners.  Among  the  Scandinavians  and 
the  Celtse  we  know  that  this  order  of  men  was  held 
in  very  peculiar  veneration  ;  and,  accordingly,  it 
would  appear,  from  the  monuments  which  remain 
of  thefe  nations,  that  they  were  diftinguifhed  by  a 
delicacy  in  the  paffion  of  love,  and  by  a  humanity 
and  generofity  to  the  vanquifhed  in  war,  which  fel- 
dom  appear  among  barbarous  tribes ;  and  with 
which  it  is  hardly  poflible  to  conceive  how  men  in 
fuch  a  flate  of  fociety  could  have  been  infpired,  but 
by  a  feparate  clafs  of  individuals  in  the  community, 
who  devoted  themfelves  to  the  pacific  profeffion  of 
poetry,  and  to  the  cultivation  of  that  creative  pow- 
er of  the  mind,  which  anticipates  the  courfe  of  hu- 
man affairs  ;  and  prefents,  in  prophetic  viiion,  to 
the  poet  and  the  philofopher,  the  bleffiiigs  which 
accompany  the  progrefs  of  reafon  and  refinement. 


OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND.  465 

Nor  muft  we  omit  to  mention  the  important  ef- 
feds  of  Imagination  in  multiplying  the  fources  of 
innocent  enjoyment,  beyond  what  this  limited  fcene 
affords.  Not  to  infift  on  the  nobler  efforts  of  gen- 
ius, which  have  rendered  this  part  of  our  conftitu- 
tion  fubfervient  to  moral  improvement ;  how  much 
has  the  fphere  of  our  happinefs  been  extended  by 
thofe  agreeable  fidlions  which  introduce  us  to  new 
worlds,  and  make  us  acquainted  with  new  orders  of 
being !  What  a  fund  of  amufement,  through  life,  is 
prepared  for  one  who  reads,  in  his  childhood,  the 
fables  of  ancient  Greece  1  They  dwell  habitually  on 
the  memory,  and  are  ready,  at  all  times,  to  fill  up 
the  intervals  of  bulinefs,  or  of  ferious  reflection  ; 
and  in  his  hours  of  rutal  retirement  and  leifure,  they 
warm  his  mind  with  the  fire  of  ancient  genius,  and 
animate  every  fcene  he  enters,  with  the  offspring  of 
claffical  fancy. 

It  is,  however,  chiefly  in  painting  future  fcenes 
that  Imagination  loves  to  indulge  herfelf,  and  her 
prophetic  dreams  are  almofl:  always  favorable  to  hap- 
pinefs. By  an  erroneous  education,  indeed,  it  is 
pofllble  to  render  this  faculty  an  inftrument  of  con- 
fliant  and  of  exquifite  distreis  ;  but  in  fuch  cafes 
(abfl:rading  from  the  influence  of  aconftitutional  mel- 
ancholy) the  difl:reffes  of  a  gloomy  imagination  are 
to  be  afcribed  not  to  nature,  but  to  the  force  of  early 
impreflions. 

The  common  bias  of  the  mind  undoubtedly'  i?, 
(fuch  is  the  benevolent  appointment  of  Providence,) 
to  thir.k  favorably  of  the  future  ;  to  over-value  the 
chances  of  poflible  good,  and  to  under-rate  the  riflss 
of  poflible  evil ;  and  in  the  cafe  of  fome  fortunate 
individuals,  this  difpofition  remains  after  a  thou- 
fand  difappointments.  To  what  this  bias  of  our  na- 
ture is  owing,  it  is  not  material  for  us  to  inquire  : 
the  fad  is  certain,  and  it  is  an  important  one  to  our 
happinefs.  It  fupports  us  under  the  real  diftreffes 
LlI 


^60  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  &C, 

of  life,  and  cheers  and  animates  all  our  labors  :  and 
although  it  is  fometimes  apt  to  produce,  in  a  weak 
and  indolent  mind,  thofe  deceitful  fuggeftions   of 
ambition  and  vanity,  which  lead  us  to  facrifice  the 
duties  and  the  comforts  of  the  prefent  moment,  to 
romantic  hopes  and  expectations  ;  yet  it  muft  be  ac- 
knowledged, when  connected  with  habits  of  activity , 
and  regulated  by  a  folid  judgment,  to  have  a  favor- 
able effedl  on  the  charader,  by  infpiring  that  ardor 
and  enthufiafm  which  both  prompt  to  great  enter- 
prifes,  and  are  neceflary  to   enfure  their  fuccefs. 
When  fuch  a  temper  is  united  (as  it  commonly  is) 
with  plealing  notions,  concerning  the  order  of  the 
univerfe,  and  in  particular  concerning  the  condition 
and  the  profped:s  of  man,  it  places  our  happinefs,  in 
a  great   meafure,  beyond  the  power   of  fortune. 
While  it  adds  a  double  relifli  to  every  enjoyment,  it 
blunts  the  edge  of  all  our  fufferings ;  and  even  when 
human  life  prefents  to  us  no  object  on  which  our 
hopes  can  reft,  it  ipvites  the  imagination  beyond  the 
dark  and  troubled  horizon  which  terminates  all  our 
earthly  profpe(5ts,  to  wander  unconfined  in  the  re- 
gions of  futurity.     A  man  of  benevolence,  whofe 
mind  is  enlarged  by  Philofophy,  will  indulge  the 
fame  agreeable  anticipations  with  refpect  to  fociety  ; 
will  view  all  the  different  improvements  in  arts,  in 
commerce,  and  in  the  fciences,  as  co-operating  to 
promote  the  union,  the  happinefs,  and  the  virtue  of 
mankind  ;  and,  amidft  the  political  diforders  refult- 
ing  from  the  prejudices  and  follies  of  his  own  times, 
will  look  forward  with  tranfport,  to  the  bleflings 
which  are  referved  for  pofterity  in  a  more  enlight- 
ened age. 


NOTES 


AND 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


C46r 


NOTES,  &c. 


NOTE  [AJ  page  12. 

I  AM  happy  in  being  able  to  quote  the  following  pas- 
sage, in  illustration  of  a  doctrine,  against  which  I  do  not 
conceive  it  possible  to  urge  any  thing,  but  the  authority  of 
some  illustrious  names. 

"  Puisque  I'existence  des  corps  n'est  pour  nous  que  la 
"  permanence  :  d'etres  dont  les  proprieies  repondent  a  un 
<*  certain  ordre  dc  nos  sensations,  il  en  resulie  qu'elle  ti'a 
*'  rien  de  plus  certam  que  celle  d'autres  etres  qui  se  mani- 
*'  festent  egalement  par  leurs  effets  sur  nous  ;  &  puisque 
"  nos  observations  sur  nos  propres  facultes,  confirmees  par 
"  celles  que  nous  faisona  sur  les  etres  pensants  qui  animent 
"  aussi  des  corps,  ne  nous  roontrent  aucune  analogic  entrc 
"Tetre  qui  sent  ou  qui  pense  Sc  I'etre  qui  nous  offrc  le  phe- 
**  nomene  de  Tetendue  ou  de  I'impenetrabilitie,  il  n'y  a  aa- 
**  cune  raison  de  croire  ces  etres  de  la  n^eme  nature.  Ainsi 
'*  la  spiritualite  de  I'ame  n'est  pas  une  opinion  qui  ait  be- 
*'  soin  de  preuvcs,  mais  le  resultat  simple  &  naturel  I'unc 
*•'  analyse  exacte  de  nos  idees,  Sc  de  nos  facultes." 

Vie^e  M,  Turcot /»tfr  M.  Condorcet. 

Des  Cartes  was  the  first  philosopher  who  stated,  in  a  clear 
and  satisfactory  manner,  the  distinction  between  mind  and 
matter,  and  who  pointed  out  the  proper  plan  for  studymg 
the  intellectual  phenomena.  It  is  chiefly  in  consequence  of 
his  precise  ideas  with  respect  to  this  distinction,  that  we 
may  remark,  in  all  his  metaphysical  writings,  a  perspicuity 
which  is  not  observable  in  those  of  any  of  his  predecessors. 

Dr.  Reid  has  remarked,  that  although  Des  Cartes  infers 
the  existence  of  mind,  from  the  operations  of  which  we  arc^ 


4.70  NOTES  AND  ILLLUSTRATIONSW 

conscious,  vet  he  eould  not  reconcile  himself  to  the  Botien 
of  an  unknown  substance,  or  substratum,  to  which  these  op- 
'crations  belonged.  And  it  was  on  this  account,  he  conjec- 
tures, that  he  made  the  essence  of  the  soul  to  consist  in 
thought ;  as,  for  a  similar  reason,  he  had  made  the  essence 
of  niatter  lo  consist  m  extension.  But  I  am  afraid,  that 
this  supposition  is  not  perfectly  reconcilable  with  Des  Car- 
tes'writings  ;  for  he  repeatedly  speaks  with  the  utmost 
confidence  of  the  existence  of  substances  of  which  we  have 
only  a  relative  idea  ;  and,  even  in  attempting  to  shew  that 
thought  is  the  essential  attribute  of  mind,  and  extension  of 
matter,  he  considers  them  as  nothing  more  than  attributes 
or  qualities  belonging  to  these  substances; 

**  Per  substantiam  nihil  aliud  intelligere  possumus,  quam 
"  rem  quse  ita  existit,  ut  nulla  alia  re  indigeat  ad  existen- 
'*  dum.  El  quidem  substantia  quas  nulla  plane  re  indigeat, 
"  unica  tantum  potest  intelligi,  nempe  Dcus,  Alias  vero 
*•*•  omnes,  non  nisi  ope  concursus  Dei  existere  posse  percipi- 
"  mus.  Atque  ideo  nomen  substantive  non  convenit  Deo 
"  et  illis  univoce  ut  dici  solet  in  scholia ;  hoc  est,  nulla  ejus 
**  nominis  significatio,  potest  distincte  intelligi,  quse  Deo, 
*'  et  creaturis  ait  communis. 

''  Possunt  autem  substantia  corporea,  et  mens,  sive  sub- 
'*  stantia  cogitans,  creata,  sub  hoc  communi  conceptu  intel- 
'*  ligi ;  quod  sint  res,  quse  solo  Dei  concursu  agent  ad  ex- 
"  istendum,  Verumtamen  non  potest  substantia  primum 
"  animadverti  ex  hoc  solo,  quod  sit  res  existens,  quia  hoc 
*'  solum  per  se  nos  non  afficit :  sed  facile  ipsam  agnosci- 
"  mus  ex  quolibet  ejus  attribute,  per  communem  illam  no- 
"  tionem,  quod  nihili  nulla  sunt  attributa,  nulisevse  prcprie- 
"  tates  aut  qualitates.  Ex  hoc  enim,  quod  aliquod  attribu- 
*'  turn  adesse  percipiamus  concludimus  aliquam  rem  exis- 
"  tentem,  sive  substantiam  cui  illud  tribui  possit,  necessa- 
"  rio  etiam  adesse. 

"  Et  quidem  ex  quolibet  attributo  substantia  cognosci- 
"  tur ;  sed  una  tamen  est  cujusque  substantise  prsecipua 
"  proprietas,  quae  ipsius  naturam  assentiamque  constituit, 
"  et  ad  quam  alise  omnes  referuntur.  Nempe  extensio  in 
*'  longum,  latum  et  profundum  substantise  corporse  naturam 
"  constituit ;  et  cogitatio  constituit  naturam  substantise  co. 
"  gitantis." — Princip.  Philosoph.  pars  i.  cap.  51,  52,  53. 

In  stating  the  relative  notions,  which  we  have  of  mind 
and  of  body,  I  have  avoided  the  use  of  the  word  substance^ 
Si8  I  am  unwilling  to  furnish  the  slightest  occasion  for  cony 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  471 

Iroversy  ;  and  have  contented  myself  with  defining  mind  to 
be  that  which  feels,  thinks,  wills,  hopes,  fears,  desires,  &c. 
That  my  consciousness  of  these  and  other  operations  is  ne- 
cessarily accompanied  with  a  conviction  of  my  own  exist- 
ence, and  with  a  conviction  that  all  of  them  belong  to  one 
and  the  same  being,  is  not  an  hypothesis,  but  a  fact ;  of 
which  it  is  no  more  possible  for  me  to  doubt,  than  of  the 
reality  of  my  own  sensations  or  volitions. 

NOTE  [B,]  page  66. 

DOCTOR  REID  remarks,  that  Des  Cartes  rejected  a 
part  only  of  the  antient  theory  of  perception,  and  adopted 
the  other  part.  "  That  theory,''  says  he,  "  may  be  divided 
•*  into  two  parts  :  the  first,  that  images,  species,  or  forms 
"  of  external  objects,  come  from  the  object,  and  enter  by 
"  the  avenues  of  the  senses  to  the  mind  :  the  second  part 
"  is,  that  the  external  object  itself  is  not  perceived,  but  on- 
"  ly  the  species  or  image  of  it  in  the  mind.  The  first  part, 
^'  Des  Cartes  and  his  followers  rejected  and  refuted  by  solid 
•'  arguments  ;  but  the  second  part,  neither  he  nor  his  fol- 
"  lowers  have  thought  of  calling  in  question  ;  being  persua- 
'*  ded  that  it  is  only  a  representative  image  in  the  mind  of 
"  the  external  object  that  we  perceive  and  not  the  object 
"  itsetf.  And  this  image,  which  the  peripatetics  called  a 
•'  species,  he  calls  an  idea,  changing  the  aame  only,  while 
"  he  admits  the  thing." 

The  account  which  this  passage  contains  of  Des  Cartes 
doctrine  concerning  perception,  is,  1  believe,  agreeable  to 
his  prevailing  opinion,  as  it  may  be  collected  from  the  gen- 
eral tenor  of  his  writings  ;  and  the  observation  with  which 
it  concludes  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  neither  he  nor  any  of 
his  followers  ever  called  in  question  the  existence  of  ideas^ 
as  the  immediate  objects  of  our  perception.  With  respect, 
however,  to  the  first  part  of  the  antient  theory,  as  here  sta- 
ted, it  may  be  proper  to  remark,  that  Des  Cartes,  al- 
though evidently  by  no  means  satisfied  with  it,  sometimes 
expresses  himself  as  if  he  rather  doubted  of  it,  than  express- 
ly denied  it ;  and  at  other  times,  when  pressed  with  objec- 
tions to  his  own  particular  system,  he  admits,  at  least  in 
part,  the  truth  of  it.  The  following  passage  is  one  of  the 
most  explicit  I  recollect,  in  opposition  to  the  aniientdoctrine. 
"  Observandum  praeterea,  animam,  nullis  imaginibus  ab 
"  objectis  ad  cerebrum  missis  egere  ut  sentiat,  (contra  quam 


473  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"  communiter  philosophi  nostri  statuunt,)aut  ad  minimum 
"  loiige  aliter  illarum  imaginum  naturam  concipiendam  esse 
"  quam  vulgo  fit.  Quum  enim  circa  eas  nil  considerent, 
''  prseter  similitudiuem  earum  cum  objectis  quse  reprsesen- 
"  tant,  non  possunt  explicare,  qua  ratione  ab  objectis  for- 
"  mari  queant,  et  recipi  ab  organis  sensuum  exteriorum, 
*'  et  demum  nervis  ad  cerebrum  transvehi.  Nee  alia  causa 
"  imagines  istas  fingere  eos  impulit,  nisi  quod  viderent 
"  mentem  nostram  efficaciter  pictura  excitari  ad  apprehen- 
"  dendum  objectum  illvid,  quod  exhibit  :  ex  hoc  enim  judi- 
"  carunt,  illam  eodem  modo  excitandara,  ad  apprehendenda 
**  ea  quae  sensus  movent,  per  exiguas  quasdam  imagines, 
"  in  capite  nostro  delineatas.  Sed  nobis  contra  est  advcr- 
**  tendum,  multa  prseter  imagines  esse,  quse  cogitationes  ex- 
"  citant,  ut  exempli  gratia,  verba  et  signa,  nulla  modo  sim* 
**  ilia  lis  quse  sigwificant" 

Dioptric,  cap.  4.  §  6. 

In  his  third  meditation  (which  contains  his  celebrated 
argument  for  the  existence  of  a  Deity)  the  following  pas- 
sage occurs. 

*'  Sed  hie  prsecipue  de  iis  est  quserendum  quas  tanquam 
"  a  rebus  extra  me  existentibus  desumpias  consider©,  quae- 
**  nam  me  moveat  ratio  ut  illas  istis  rebus  similes  esse  ex- 
'*  istimem  ;  nempe  ita  videor  doctus  a  natura,  et  prcetera 
"  experior  illas  non  a  mea  voluntate  nee  proinde  a  me  ipso 
"  pendere,  ssepe  enim  vel  invito  obversantur,  ut  iam,sive  ve- 
'*  lim  sive  nolim,sentio  calorem,  ct  ideo  puto  sensum  ilium, 
*'  sive  ideam  coloris  a  re  a  me  diversa,  nempe  ab  ignis,  cui 
"  assideo  calore  mihi  advenire,  nihilque  magis  obvium  est, 
"  quam  ut  judicem  istam  rem  suam  similitudinem  potius, 
"  quam  aliud  quid  in  me  immittere  ;  quse  rationes  an  satis 
*'  firmse  sint,  jam  videbo.  Cum  hie  dice  me  ita  doctum 
**  esse  a  natura,  intelligo  tantum  spontaneo  quodam  impetu 
**  me  ferri  ad  hoc  credendum,  non  lumine  aliquo  naturali 
"  mihi  ostendi  esse  verum,  qu£e  duo  mullum  discrepant, 
"  nam  qusecumque  lumine  naturali  mihi  ostenduntur,  (ut 
"  quod  ex  eo  quod  dubitem  sequatur  me  esse,  et  similia,) 
*'  nullo  modo  dubia  esse  possunt,  quia  nulla  alia  facultas 
*'  esse  potest,  cui  aeque  fidam  ac  lumini  isti,  quseque  ilia  non 
"  vera  pos'-lt  docere  ;  sed  quantum  ad  impetus  naturales, 
"  jam  saepe  olim  judicavi  me  ab  illis  in  deterioreni  partem 
*'  fuisse  impulsum  cum  de  bono  eligendo  ageretur,i)cc  video 
*'  cur  iisdem  in  ulla  alia  re  magis  fidam.  Deinde  quam  vis 
*'  idtce  illaj  a  voluntate  mea  non  pendeant,  non  ideo  constat 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  473 

"  ipsas  a  rebus  extra  me  positis  necessario  procedere  ;  ut 
*'  enim  impetus  illi,  de  quibus  mox  loquebar,  quamvis  in 
*'  me  sint,  a  voluntate  tamen  raea  diversi  esse  videntur, 
♦'  ita  forte  etiam  aliqua  alia  est  in  me  facultas  nondum  mihi 
'*  satis  cognitaisiarumidearum  effectrix:,  uthactenus  semper 
"  visum  est  illas,  dum  somnio,  absque  ulla  rerum  externa- 
"  rum  ope  in  me  formari ;  ac  denique  quamvis  a  rebus  a  me 
*'  dive'sis  procederent,  con  inde  sequitur  illas  rebus  istis 
*'  similes  esse  debere  ;  quinimo  in  multis  esepe  magnum 
*'  discrimen  videor  deprehendisse  ;  sic,  exempli  causa,  duas 
•*  diversas  sal  is  ideas  apud  me  invenio,  unam  tanquam  a 
*'  sensibus  haustam  et  quae  maxime  inter  illas  quas  advcnti- 
**  tijis  exisiimo  est  rccensenda,  per  quam  mihi  valde  par- 
"  vus  apparet  ;  aliam  vero  ex  raiionibus  astronomia  de- 
**  sumptam,  hoc  est  ex  notionibus  quibusdam  mihi  innatis 
**  elicitam  vel  quocumque  alio  modo  a  me  factam,  per  quam 
**  aliquoties  major  quam  terra  exhibetur  ;  utraque  profecto 
*'  similis  eidem  soli  extra  me  existenti  esse  non  potest  et 
*'  ratio  persuadet  illam  ei  maxime  esse  dissimilem,  quae 
"  quam  proxime  ab  ipso  videtur  emanasse.  Quae  omnia 
*'  satis  demonsirant  me  non  hactenus  ex  certo  judicio,  sed 
"  tantum  ex  cseco  aliquo  impulsu  credidisse  res  quasdam  a 
**  me  diversas  existere,  quae  ideas  sive  imagines  suas  per 
"  organa  sensuum,  vel  quolibet  alio  pacto  mihi  immittant." 
Among  other  animadversions  upon  this  meditation  sent 
to  Des  Cartes  by  one  of  his  correspondents,  it  is  objected  ; 
*'  Videria  vertere  in  dubium  non  tantum  utrum  idcee  aliquas 
"  procedant  ex  rebus  externis,  sed  etim  utrum  omnino  sint 
*'  externaB  res  aliquae."  I'o  which  Des  Cartes  answers  : 
"  Notandum  est,  me  nonaffirmasse  ideas  rerum  matcrialium 
*'  ex  mente  deduci,  ut  non  satis  bona  fide  hie  fingis  ;  ex- 
"  presse  enim  p.ostea  ostendi  ipsas  a  corporibus  saepe  adve- 
**  nire,  ac  per  hoc  corporum  existentiam  probari." 

Vide  Objectiones  in  Meditationes  Renatt  Des  Cartes ^ 
cum  ejusdem  ad  illas  Responsionibus. 

NOTE  [C,]  page  69. 

IN  consequence  of  the  inferences  which  Mr.  Hume  has 
deduced  from  this  doctrine  concerning  cause  and  effect, 
some  later  authors  have  been  led  to  dispute  its  truth  ;  not 
perceiving  that  the  fallacy  of  this  part  of  Mr.  Hume's  sys- 
tena  does  not  consist  in  his  premises,  but  in  the  concjusion 
which  he  draws  from  thera. 

M  Mm 

f 


474  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

That  ihe  object  of  the  physical  inquirer  is  not  to  tracj? 
necessary  connections  or  to  ascertain  the  efficient  causes  of 
phenomena,  is  a43rinciple  which  has  been  frequently  ascrib- 
ed to  Mr.  Hume  as  its  author,  both  by  his  followers  and 
by  his  opponents  ;  but  it  is,  in  fact,  of  a  much  earlier  date, 
and  has  been  niaintained  by  many  of  the  most  enlightened, 
and  the  least  sceptical  of  our  modern  philosophers  :  nor  do 
I  know  that  it  was  ever  suspected  to  have  a  dangerous  ten- 
dency, till  the  publication  of  Mr.  Hume's  writings.  "  If 
"  we  accept"  (says  Dr.  Barrow)  "  the  mutual  causality  and 
*'  dependence  of  the  t^rms  of  a  mathematical  demonstration, 
**  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  other  causality  in  the  na- 
^*'  ture  of  things,  wherein  a  necessary  consequence  can  be 
*'  founded.  Logicians  do  indeed  boast  of  I  do  not  know 
**  what  kind  of  demonstrations  from  external  causes  either 
"  efficient  or  final,  but  without  being  able  to  shew  one  gen- 
*'  uine  example  of  any  such  ;  nay,!  imagine  it  is  impossi- 
**  ble  for  them  so  to  do.  For  there  can  be  no  such  con- 
"  nection  of  an  external  efficient  cause  with  its  effect,"  (at 
least  none  such  can  be  understood  b>  us,)  "  through  which, 
*'  strictly  speaking,  the  effect  is  necessarily  supposed  by  the 
"  supposition  of  the  efficient  cause,  or  any  determinate  cause 
*'  by  the  supposition  of  the  effect."  He  adds  afterwards, 
*'  Therefore  there  can  be  no  argumentation  from  an  efficient 
"  cause  to  the  effect,  or  form  an  effect  to  the  cause  which  is 
"  lawfully  necessary.'* 

Mathematical  Lectures  read  at  Cambridge^ 

Dr.  Butler  too,  in  his  discourse  on  the  ignorance  of  man, 
has  remarked,  that  **  it  is  in  general  no  more  than  ejects 
"  that  the  most  knowing  are  acquainted  with  i  for  as  to 
*'  causes  they  are  as  entirely  in  the  dark  as  the  most  ignor- 
**  ant."  "  What  are  the  laws,"  (he  continues,)  ''  by  which 
**  matter  acts  on  matter,  but  certain  effects,  which  some, 
**  having  observed  to  be  frequently  repeated,  have  reduced 
**  to  general  rules  ?"  Butler's  Ser7nons, 

**  The  laws  of  attraction  and  repulsion"  (says  Dr.  Berke- 
ley) "  are  to  be  regarded  a&  laws  of  motion,  and  these  only 
'*  as  rules  or  methods  observed  in  the  productions  of  natural 
*'  effects,  the  efficient  and  final  causes  whereof  are  not  of 
"  mechanical  consideration.  Certainly,  if  the  explaining  a 
**  phenomenon  be  to  assign  its  proper  efficient  and  final 
"  cause,  it  should  seem  the  mechanical  philosophers  never 
"  explained  any  thing  ;  their  province  being  only  to  discov- 
"  er  the  laws  of  nature  ;  that  is,  the  general  rules  and 
*'  methods  of  motion  ;  and  to  account  for  particular  phe- 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  ^S. 

**  nomena,  by  reducing  them  under,  or  shewing  their  con- 
**  formity  to  such  general  rules." 

SiRis  :  or,  PhiJo^Qphtcal  Inquiries  concerning  the  Fir- 
tues  of  Tar  Water ^  p.  108. 

"  The  words  attraction  and  repulsion  may,  in  compliance 
"  with  custom,  be  used  where,  accurately  speaking,  motion 
"  alone  is  meant."  Ibid,  p.  114. 

"  Attraction  cannot  produce,  and  in  that  sense  account, 
•*  for  the  phenomena ;  being  itself  one  of  the  phenomena 
"  produced  and  to  be  accounted  for."  Ibid,  p.  115. 

"  There  is  a  certain  analogy,  constancy,  and  uniformity 
*'  in  the  plienomena  or  appearances  of  nature,  which  are  a 
**  foundation  for  general  rules  :  and  these  are  a  grammar 
**  for  the  understanding  ot  nature,  or  that  series  of  effects 
"  in  the  visible  world,  whereby  we  are  enabled  to  foresee 
"  what  will  come  to  pass  in  the  natural  course  of  things, 
"  Plotinus  observes,  in  his  third  Ennead,  that  the  art  of 
"  presaging,  is  in  some  sort  the  reading  of  natural  letters 
*'  denoting  order,  and  that  so  far  forth  as  analogy  obtains 
**  in  the  universe,  there  may  be  vaticination.  And  in  reality 
"  he  that  foretels  the  motions  of  the  planets,  or  the  effects 
*'  of  medicines,  or  the  result  of  chemical  or  mechanical  ex- 
"  periments,  may  be  said  to  do  it  by  natural  vaticination." 

Ibid,  p.  J  20,  121. 

"  instruments,  occasions,  and  signs,  occur  in,  or  rather 
"  make  up,  the  whole  visible  course  of  nature." 

//^zV.  p.  123. 

The  following  very  remarkable  passage  from  Mr,  Locke" 
shews  clearly  that  this  eminent  philosopher  considered  the 
connection  between  impulse  and  motion,  as  a  conjunction 
which  we  learn  from  experience  only,  and  not  as  a  conse- 
quence deducible  from  the  consideration  of  impulse,  by  any 
reasoning  rt />rzor7.  The  passage  is  ihe  more  curious,  that 
it  is  this  particular  application  of  Mr,  Hume's  doctrine,  that 
has  been  generally  supposed  to  furnish  the  strongest  objec- 
tion against  it. 

"  Another  idea  we  have  of  body,  is  the  power  of  com- 
*'  municaiing  motion  by  impulse  ;  and  of  our  souls,  the 
*<  power  of  exciting  motion  by  thought.  These  ideas,  the 
'*  one  of  body,  the  other  of  our  minds,  every  day's  experi- 
**^  ence  clearly  furnishes  us  with  :  but  if  here  again  we  in- 
"  quire  how  this  is  done,  we  are  equally  in  the  dark.  For 
•**  in  the  communication  of  motion  by  impulse,  wherein  as 
•^*  much  motion  is  lost  to  one  body,  as  is  got  to  the  other, . 


4r6  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"  which  is  the  ordinariest  case,  we  can  have  no  other  con- 
**  ception,  but  of  the  passing  of  motion  out  of  the  one  into 
**  another  ;  which  I  think  is  as  obscure  and  inconceivable, 
**  as  how  our  minds  mv.ve  or  stop  our  bodies  by  thought, 
*'  which  we  every  moment  find  they  do." 

"  The  communication  of  motion  by  thought, 

"  which  we  ascribe  to  spirit,  is  as  evident  as  that  of  impulse 
"  which  we  ascribe  to  body.  Constant  experience  makes 
**  us  sensible  of  both  of  these,  though  our  narrow  under- 
"  standings  can  comprehend  neither." 

'*  1  o  conclude,  sensation  convinces  us,  that  there 

"  are  solid  extended  substances  ;  and  reflection,  that  there 
"  are  thinkmg  ones  :  experience  assures  us  of  the  existence 
*'  of  such  beings  ;  and  that  the  one  hath  a  power  to  move 
"  body  by  impulse,  and  the  other  by  thought. — If  we 
•'  would  inquire  farther  into  their  nature,  causes,  and  man- 
*'  ner,  we  perceive  not  the  nature  of  extension  clearer  than 
''  we  do  of  thinking.  If  we  would  explain  them  any  far-* 
*'  ther,  one  is  as  easy  as  the  other  ;  and  there  is  no  more 
*'  difficulty  to  conceive,  how  a  substance  we  know  not, 
*'  should  by  thought  set  body  into  motion,  than  how  a  sub- 
"  stance  we  know  not,  should  by  impulse  set  body  into  mo- 
"  tion."  Locke,  book  ii.  chap.  28.  §  S,3,  2S. 

It  is  not  indeed  very  easy  to  reconcile  the  foregoing  ob- 
servations, which  are,  in  every  respect,  worthy  of  the  saga- 
city of  this  excellent  philosopher,  with  the  passage  quoted 
from  him  in  page  81  of  this  work. 

Some  of  Mr  Hume's  reasonings  concerning  the  nature 
of  the  connections  among  physical  events,  coincide  perfect- 
ly with  those  of  Malebranche  on  the  same  subject ;  but  they 
were  employed  by  this  last  writer  to  support  a  very  differ- 
ent conclusion. 

At  a  still  earlier  period,  Hobbes  expressed  himself  with 
respect  to  phys]cal  connections,  in  terms  so  nearly  approach- 
ing to  Mr.  Hume's,  that  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that  they 
did  not  suggest  to  him  the  language  which  he  has  employed 
on  that  subject.  *'  What  we  call  experience,"  (he  remarks) 
**  is  nothing  else  but  remembrance  of  what  antecedents 
**  have  been  followed  by  what  consequents." — "  No  man," 
(he  continues,)  **  can  have  in  his  mind  a  conception  of  the 
"  future  ;  for  the  future  is  not  yet ;  but  of  our  conceptions 
"  of  the  past  we  make  a  future,  or  rather  call  past,  future 
**  relatively.  Thus  after  a  man  hath  been  accustomed  to 
"  see  like  antecedents  foliowed  by  like  consequents,  when- 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  477 

"  soever  he  seeihthe  like  come  to  pass  to  any  thing  he  had 
*'  seen  before,  he  looks  there  should  follow  it  the  same  that 
**  followed  then. — When  a  man  hath  so  often  observed  like 
*'  antecedents  to  be  followed  by  like  consequents,  that 
*'  whersoever  he  seeth  the  antecedent,  he  looketh  again 
"  for  the  consequent,  or  when  he  seeth  the  consequent, 
*'  raaketh  account  there  hath  been  the  like  antecedent,  then 
"  he  calleth  both  the  antecedent  and  the  consequent  signs 
"  of  one  another.  Hobbes'  Tripos. 

I  am  doubtful  whether  I  should  not  add  to  these  author - 
ties,  that  of  Lord  Bacon,  who,  although  he  has  no  where 
formerly  stated  the  doctrine  now  under  consideration,  has 
plainly    taken  it  for   granted  in    all  his   reasonings  on  the 
method  of  prosecuting  philosophical  inquiries  ;    for  if  we 
could  perceive  in  any  instance  the  manner  in  which  a  cause 
produces  its  effect,  we  should  be  able  to  deduce  the  effect 
from  its  cause  by  reasoning  a  priori  ;  the  impossibility  of 
which  he  every  where  strongly  inculcates.     **  Homo  natu- 
**  rae  minister  et  Interpres  tantum  facit  et  intelligit  quantum 
**  de  naturae  ordine  re  vel  mente  observaverit ;  nee  amplius 
*'  scit  aut  potest."     I  acknowledge,  at  the  same  time,  that, 
from  the  general  scope  of  Lord  Bacon's  writings,  as  well  as 
from  some  particular  expressions  in  them  with  regard  to 
causes,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  his  metaphysical  no- 
tions on  the  subject  were  not  very  accurate,  and  that  he 
was  led   to  perceive  the  necessity  of  recurring  to  observa-i 
tion  and  experiment  in  natural  philosophy,  not  from  a  spec- 
ulative consideration  of  our  ignorance  concerning  necessa" 
ry  connections,  b«jt  from  a  conviction,  founded  on  a  review 
of  the  history  of  science,  of  th(i  insufficiency  of  those  meth- 
ods of  inquiry  which  his  p.edecessors  had  pursued.     The 
notion  which  the  ancients  had  formed  of  the  object  of  phi- 
losophy, (which  they  conceived  to  be  the  investigation   of 
efficient  causes,)\vas  the  principal  circumstance  which  mis- 
led them  in    their  researches  ;  and  the   erroneous  opinions 
of  Des  Cartes  on  the  same  subject,  frustrated  all  the  efforts 
of  his  great  and  inventive  genius,  in  the  studv  of  physics. 
"  Perspicuuni  est,"  (sayi.  he,  in  one  passage,)  "  optirnam 
"  philosophandi  viam  nos  sequuturos,  si  ex  ipsius  Dei  cog- 
"  nitione  rerum  ab  eo   creatarum   cognitionem   deducere 
"  coneraur,  ut  ita  scientiam  perfectissimam  qusae  est  effect- 
"  uum  per  causas  acquiramus."* 

•  There  is,  I  believe,  reason  to  doubt  if  Des  Cartes  had  ever  read  the  works 
ofBacoii. 


4?*  NOTES  AND  ILLLUSTRATIOKS: 

The  strong  prejudice  which  has  been  entertained  of  late 
against  Mr.  Hume's  doctrine  concerning  the  connection  a- 
mong  physical  events,  in  consequence  of  the  dangerous  con- 
clusions to  which  it  has  erroneously  been  supposed  to  lead, 
"will,  I  hope,  be  a  sufficient  apology  for  multiplying  so  ma- 
ny authorities  in  support  of  it. 

NOTE  [D,]  page  7t. 

THIS  language  has  even  been  adopted  by  philosophers, 
and  by  atheists  as  well  as  theists.  The  latter  have  repre- 
sented natural  events  as  parts  of  a  great  chain,  the  highest 
link  of  which  is  supported  by  the  Deity.  The  former  have 
pretended,  th.it  there  is  no  absurdity  in  supposing  the  num- 
ber ol  links  to  be  infinite.  Mr.  Hume  had  the  merit  of 
shewing  clearly  to  philosophers,  that  our  common  language, 
with  respect  to  cause  and  effect,  is  merely  analogical ;  and 
that  if  there  be  any  links  among  physical  events,  they  must 
forever  remain  invisible  to  us.  If  this  pa'^t  of  his  system 
be  admitted  ;  and  if,  at  the  same  time,  we  admit  the  author- 
ity of  that  principle  of  the  mind,  which  leads  us  to  refer 
every  change  to  an  efficient  cause  ;  Mr.  H\ime's  doctrine 
seems  to  be  more  favorable  to  theism,  than  even  the  com- 
mon notions  upon  this  subject ;  as  it  keeps  the  Deity  al- 
ways in  view,  not  only  as  the  first,  but  as  the  constantly  • 
operating  efficient  cause  in  nature,  and  as  the  great  con- 
necting principle  among  all  the  various  phenomena  which 
we  observe.  This,  accordingly,  was  the  conclusion  which 
Malebranche  deduced  from  premises  very  nearly  the  same 
with  Mr.  Hume's. 


NOTE  [E,]  page  110. 

MR.  LOCKE,  in  his  Essay  on  Human  Understanding, 
has  taken  notice  of  the  quickness  with  which  the  opera- 
tions of  the  mind  are  carried  on,  and  has  referred  to  the 
acquired  perceptions  of  sight,  as  a  proof  of  it.  The  same 
Author  has  been  struck  with  the  conaection  between  this 
class  of  facts  and  our  habitual  actions  ;  but  he  does  not 
state  the  question,  whether  such  actions  are  voluntary  or 
not.  I  think  it  probable,  from  his  mode  of  expression, 
that  his  opinion  on  the  subject  was  the  same  with  mine. 
The  following  quotation  contains  all  the  remarks  I  recoi-* 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS*:  4^9 

Icct  in  his  writings,  that  have  any  connection  with  the  doc- 
trines of  the  present  chapter  : 

**  We  are  farther  to  consider,  concerning  perception,  that 
•'  the  ideas  we  receive  by  sensation  are  often,  in  grown  peo- 
"  pie,  altered  by  the  judgment,  without  our  taking  notice 
*'  of  it.  When  we  set  before  our  eyes  a  round  globe,  of 
"  any  uniform  color,  e»  £".  gold,  alabaster,  or  jet,  it  is  eer- 
•'  tain  that  the  idea  thereby  imprinted  in  our  mind  is  of  a 
*'  flat  circle,  variously  shadowed,  with  several  degrees  of 
"  light  and  brightness  coming  to  our  eyes.  But  we,  hav- 
"  ing  by  use  been  accustomed  to  perceive  what  kind  of 
*'  appearance  convex  bodies  are  wont  to  make  in  us,  and 
"  what  alterations  are  made  in  the  reflections  of  light  by 
*'  the  difl^erence  of  the  sensible  figure  of  bodies  ;  the  judg- 
"  ment  presently,  by  an  habitual  custom,  alters  the  appear- 
'*  ances  into  their  causes  ;  so  that,  from  that  which  trulv 
*'  is  variety  of  shadow  or  color,  collecting  the  figure,  it 
•*  makes  it  pass  for  a  mark  of  figure,  and  frames  to  itself 
**  the  perception  of  a  convex  figure,  and  an  uniform  color ; 
**  when  the  idea  we  receive  from  thence  is  only  a  plane  va- 
**  riously  colored  ;  as  is  evident  in  painting." 

Chap.  ix.  §  8. 

"  But  this  is  not,  I  think,  usually  in  any  of  our  ideas  but 
"  those  received  by  sight ;  because  sight,  the  most  ccm- 
•'  prehensive  of  all  our  senses,  conveying  to  our  minds  the 
"  ideas  of  light  and  colors,  which  are  peculiar  only  to  that 
"  sense,  and  also  the  far  diff'erent  ideas  of  space,  figure,  and 
**  motion,  the  several  varieties  whereof  change  the  appear- 
"  ances  of  its  proper  object,  viz.  light  and  colors,  we  bring 
"  ourselves  by  use  to  judge  of  the  one  by  the  other.  This, 
**  in  many  cases,  by  a  settied  habit  in  things  whereof  we 
**  have  frequent  experience,  is  performed  so  constantly,  and  \ 
*'  so  quick,  that  we  take  that  for  the  perception  of  oursen- 
"  sation,  which  is  an  idea  formed  by  our  judgment  ;  so 
"  that  one,  viz.  that  of  sensation,  serves  only  to  excite  the 
'*  other,  and  is  scarce  taken  any  notice  of  itself;  as  a  maa 
'*  who  reads  or  hears  with  attention  and  understanding, 
"  takes  little  notice  of  the  characters  or  sounds,  but  of  the 
"  ideas  that  are  excited  in  him  by  them. 

'*  Nor  need  we  wonder  that  this  is  done  with  so  little 
"  notice,  if  we  consider  how  very  quick  the  actions  of  the 
**  mind  are  performed  ;  for  as  itself  is  thought  to  take  up 
"  no  space,  to  have  no  extension,  so  its  actions  seem  to  re- 
^*  quire  no  time,  but  many  of  them  seem  to  be  crowded  in- 


480  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"  into  an  instant.  I  speak  this  in  comparison  to  the  acJ- 
*'  tions  of  the  body.  Any  one  may  easily  observe  this  in 
**  his  own  thoughts,  who  will  take  the  pains  to  reflect  oa 
"  them.  How,  as  it  were  in  an  instant,  do  our  minds,  with 
"  one  glance,  ice  all  parts  of  a  demonstration,  which  may 
"  very  well  be  called  a  long  one,  if  we  consider  the  time  it 
"  will  require  to  pat  it  into  words,  and  step  by  step  shew 
"  it  to  another  ?  Secondly,  we  shall  not  be  much  surprised 
*'  that  this  is  done  in  us  with  so  little  notice,  if  we  consid- 
*'  er  how  the  facility  which  we  get  of  domg  things  by  a 
•'  custom  of  doing,  makes  them  often  pass  in  as  without  our 
"  notice.  Habits,  especially  such  as  arc  begun  very  early, 
'*  come  at  last  to  produce  actions  in  us,  which  often  escape 
'*  our  o'iservation.  How  frequently  do  we  in  a  day  cover 
*'  our  eyes  with  our  eye-lids,  without  perceiving  that  we 
**  are  at  all  in  the  dark  ?  Men  that  by  custom  have  got  the 
•*  use  of  a  bye-word,  do  almost  in  every  sentence  pronounce 
"  sounds,  which,  though  taken  notice  of  by  others,  they 
*'  themselves  neither  hear  nor  observe  ;  and,  therefore,  it 
*'  is  not  so  strange  that  our  mind  should  often  change  the 
"  idea  of  its  sensation  into  that  of  its  judgment,  and  make 
*'  one  serve  only  to  excite  the  other,  without  our  taking  no- 
"  tice  of  it."     '  Ibid.  $  9,  10. 

The  habit  mentioned  by  Locke,  in  this  paragraph,  of  oc- 
casionally winking  with  the  eye-lids,  (which  is  not  accom- 
panied  with  any  memory  of  our  being,  in  every  such  in- 
stance, ill  a  momentary  state  of  total  darkness,)  deserves 
to  be  added  to  the  cases  already  mentioned,  to  shew  the 
dependence  of  memory  upon  attention. 

NOTE  [FJ  page  149. 

"_« — PLATONI  quid  idea  sit,  peculiari  tractatione 
^*  proiixe  excussimus,*  quae  consuli  ab  iis  debet,  qui  accu- 
**  rate  totam  rti  seriem  pernoscere  cupiunt.  Nos  pro 
"  prsesentis  institati  modo  paucis  notamus,  Platoni  ideam 
"  non  esse  illam,  qu£e  ex  contemplaiione  objectorura  singu* 
"  larium  exsurgit  notionem  jniversalem  rique  alicujus  geft- 
*'  eralem  conceptum,  quern  recentiores  ideam  vocant,  ille 
**  e^rj  vocavit  et  ab  idea  distinxit.  Sed  idese  sunt  illi  essen« 
**  tialia  rerum  omnium  singulariura  exemplaria,  avxoa^tat^ 
*■''  gaudentia,  ad  quorum  naturam  indolemque  res  singularcs 

*  Brucker  here  alludes  to  bis  work,  intitled,  Historia  Philosophica  de 
Ideis ;  which  I  have  never  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing. 


N^OTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  481 

"  fonrat92  sunt,  et  quse  illis  veram  certamque  atque  stabi- 
"  lem  essentiana  largiuntur.  Has  ideas  ex  divina  mente 
**  oriri,  inque  ea  radicari,  sua  autem  propria  substantia  gau- 
'*  derc,  ct  esse  ctvrus  x«/  ovrus  ovrx  statuit,  et  circa  earum  cog- 
**  nitipnem  versari  intellectum  humanum,  in  his  rerum  es- 
"  sentiis  separatim  et  extra  mater iam  existentibus  cognos- 
'*  cendis  cardinem  verti  totius  philosophse  asseruit.  Ridi- 
"  culutn  id  visum  Aristoteli,  dari  extra  m?teriam  ejusmodi 
"  essentias  universales,  quibus  res  omnes  singulares  essen- 
*'  tialiter  modificarentur,  rato,  esse  hsec  rspsna-i^xrix  et  nugas 
"  otiosi  ingenii,  Platonemque  sine  causa  rationeque  sufii- 
"  cientihsec  somnia  ex  scholis  Pythagoreorum,  quae  istis  en- 
'"  tibus  personabant,  recepisse,  suoque  intulisse  systemati# 
*'  Cum  autem  negare  non  auderet,  esse  in  rebus  formas  es- 
"  sentiales,  has  ideas,  sive  formas,  qua  voce  Platonicum 
"  nomen  exprimere  maluit,  materise  ab  seterno  esse  impres- 
"  sas,  ct  in  eo  latere  affirmavit,  et  ita  demum  ex  rationibus 
"  istis  formisque  seminalibus,  materiam  esse  formatam 
"  statuit." 

Bruck,  Hist.  Phil,  iii.  p.  905. 

NOTE  [G,]  page  150. 

THE  Stoics,  who  borrowed  many  of  their  doctrines 
from  the  other  schools  of  philosophy,  seem,  in  particular, 
to  have  derived  their  notions  on  this  subject  from  some  of 
their  predecessors.  Stilpo,  who  was  of  the  Megaric  sect, 
is  said  to  have  held  opinions  approaching  nearly  to  those  of 
the  Nominalists. 

*'  Stilpo  universalia  plane  sustulit.  Dicebat  enim  :  qui 
*'  hominem  dicat  eum  neminem  dicere,  quod  non  hunc  vel 
*••  ilium  ea  vox  significet,  nee  huic  magis,  quam  alteri  con- 
''  veniat. — Scilicet  supponebat  Stilpo,  non  dari  homin- 
**  em  in  abstr^cto,  adeoque  has  species  et  genera  rerum  non 
'*  natura  existere  ;  cum  ueque  in  hoc  neque  in  alio  homine, 
"  ille  homo  universalis  queat  ostendi.  Inductione  itaque 
*'  facta,  cum  neque  hunc,  neque  illium,  neque  aluim  hom- 
"  inem  esse  coUigeret,  inferebat  nullum  esse  hominem, 
'*  sicque  ludendo  ambigua  hominis  in  genere  sive  abstracto, 
'*  uti  logici  dicunt,  &  in  individuo  sive  singulari  considera- 
*'  ti  notione,  incautos  exagitabat.  Altiora  tamen  hie  latere 
*'  putat  P.  Bayle,  et  non  in  solo  verborum  lusu  substitisse 
*'  Stilponem,  sed  universalia  sive  prsedicabilia  negavissc.— 
"  Neque  prorsus  est  dissimilc,  fuisse  Stilponem  inter  eos, 

"NT    vr     n 


432  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIOiJS. 

"  qui  universalia  prseter  nuda  nomina  nihil  esse  dicerent^ 
**  quod  et  cynicos  fecisse  et  alios,  alibi  docuimus  :  quorum 
"  partes  postea  susceperuut  Abaelardi  sequaces  et  lotanom- 
"  inaliutn  secia."  Brucker,  vol.  i.  p.  619. 

NOTE  [H,]  page  152. 

"  SECULO  XI.  Ruscelinus  vel  Ruscelinus  sacerdos  et 
**  philosophus  Cjmpendiensis,  ab  Aristotele  stcessum  fe- 
"  cit,  et  in  Stoicorum  castra  ita  transtit,  ut  statueret,  uni- 
"  versalia,  nee  ante  rem,  nee  in  re  existere,  nee  uUam  ha- 
"  bere  realem  existentiam,  sad  esse  nuda  nomina  et  voees, 
*'  quibus  rerum  smgularium  genera  denotentur," 

Brucker,  Hist,  PhtU  vol.  iii.  p.  906- 

*'  Dum  Porphyrius  prudentur  quses^tionem  ;  an  universa- 
*'  lia  rvera  eXistant,  omittendam  esse  censet,  de  qua  inter 
*'  Platonlcos  et  Stoieos  mire  decertari  novetat  occasionem 
"  suppeditavit  otioso  Roscelini  ingenio,  earn  novo  acuminc 
*'  ingenii  aggrediendi  definiendique."    Ibid,  t^ol.  iii.  p.  G74. 

Roscelinus  was  a  native  of  Britanny,  and  canon  of  Com- 
piegne.  He  is  much  celebrated,  even  by  his  adversaries, 
for  the  acuteness  and  subtilty  of  his  genius,  which  he  dis- 
played both  in  scholastical  and  theological  controversy.  He 
was  condemned  for  Tritheism  bv  a  council  assembled  at 
Soissons  in  the  year  1092-  (See  Mosheim's  Ecclesiastical 
History,  J  It  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  taught  in  Pa- 
ris, or  that  he  gave  public  Lectures  ;  but  he  had  the  honor 
to  direct  the  studies,  and  to  form  the  philosophical  opin- 
ions of  Abelard,  by  whose  means  the  innovations  he  had 
introduced  into  Dialectics  obtained  a  very  wide  and  rapid 
circulation. — (Brucker,  vol.  iii.  p.  728.)  He  is  mention- 
ed as  an  Englishman  by  Mallet,  in  his  life  of  Bacon,  and 
by  other  writers  j  a  mistake  into  which  they  have  fallen, 
by  confounding  Britain  with  Bretagne.  Very  litde  is 
known  of  the  particulars  of  his  life.  "  Primum  nominali- 
*•■  um  aiunt  fuisse,''  says  Leionitz  ;  "  nescio  quetn  Ruceli- 
"  num  Britonem."  See  his  Dissertation  de  Stylo  Philosoph- 
ico  Miirii  Niz^lii. 

The  opinion  of  Abelard  concerning  Universals,  is  said 
to  have  differed,  in  some  respects,  from  that  of  his  master, 
*^  Alius  consisiit  in  vocibus/'  says  John  of  Salisbury,  who 
was  a  scholar  of  Ai^clard,  "  licet  ha3c  opinio  cum  Roscelino 
**  suo  fere  omnino  jam  evanuerit ;  alius  sermones  intueter, 
■^  et  ad  illos  detorquct,  quicquid  alicubi  de  univeisalibus 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  4S3 

^  meminit  scriptum.     In  hac  autem  opinione  deprehensufe 
"  est  Peripateticus  Abelardus  noster.'* 

Metalo^.  lib.  u.  c.  ir, 

or  this  difference  between  the  doctrines  of  Roscelinus 
and  Abelard,  I  find  myself  perfectly  unable  to  give  any  ac- 
count ;  and  I  am  glad  to  find  that  MorhofF  acknowledges 
his  ignorance  upon  the  same  subject.  ^'  Alii  fuerunt,  qui 
**  universalia  qusesiverunt,gnon  tarn  in  vocibus  quam  in  ser- 
*'  monibus  integris  ;  quod  Joh.  Sarisberiensis  adscribit  Pe* 
*'  tro  Abelardo  ;  quo  quid  intelhgat  ille,  mihi  non  satis  li- 
"  quet."  Polyhist*  torn.  ii.  lib.  i.  cap.  13,  §  2. 

Absurd  as  these  controversies  may  now  appear,  such 
was  the  prevailing  taste  of  the  twelfth  century,  that  they  se- 
duced the  young  and  aspiring  mind  of  Abelard  from  all  the 
other  pursuits  which  Europe  then  presented  to  his  ambi- 
tion.— '"•  Ut  militaris  gloriae  pompam,"  says  he, "  cum  hae- 
*'  reditate  et  prcerogauva  primogenitorum  meorum  fratri- 
**  bus  derelinquens,  Martis  curiae  penitus  abdicarem,  ut  Mi- 
*'  r«;r\ae  gremio  educarer."  Hist.  Calam.  Suar.  c.  I. 

Amoag  the  literary  men  of  this  period,  none  seems  to 
have  arisen  to  such  an  eminent  superiority  above  his  age, 
in  the  liberality  of  his  philosophical  views,  as  John  of  Sal- 
isbury, the  celebrated  friend  of  archbishop  Btd^et.  In  his 
youth  he  had  studied  at  Paris  under  Abelard  and  other 
eminent  masters,  and  had  applied  himself,  with  distinguish-^ 
ed  ardor  and  succes,  to  the  subtile  speculations  which  then 
occupied  the  schools.  After  a  long  absence,  when  his  mind 
was  enlarged  by  more  liberal  and  useful  pursuits,  and  by 
an  extensive  intercourse  with  the  world,  he  had  the  curiosi- 
ty to  revisit  the  scene  of  his  early  studies,  and  to  compare  his 
own  acquisitions  with  those  of  his  old  companions.  The 
account  which  he  gives  of  this  visit  is  stiikingly  character- 
istical,  both  of  the  writer  and  of  his  age:  "  Invcnti  sunt, 
'*  qui  fuerant,  et  ubi :  neque  enim  ad  palmam  visi  sunt  pro^ 
**  cessisse  ad  quaestiones  pristinas  dirimendas,  neque  propo- 
'*  sitiunculam  unam  adjecerant.  .  Expertus 

"  itaque  sum,  quod  liquido  colligi  potest,  quia  sicut  dialec- 
"  tica  alias  expedit  disciplinas,  sic,  si  sola  fuerir,  jacet  ex- 
sanguis  et  sterilis.  &c."  Metalo^.  lib.  ii.  cap.  10. 

The  same  Author,  speaking  of  the  controversy  between 
the  Nominalists  and  the  Realists,  thus  expresses  himself : 
"  Quaestionem  de  generibus  et  speciebus  in  qua  laboran* 
"  mundusjam  senuit,  in  qua  plus  ten)poris  consumptumest 
**  quam  in  acquirendo  et  regendo  orbis  imperio  consum- 


484  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

«  serit  Ceesarea  domus :  plus  efFusum  pecuniae,  quam  in 
**  omnibus  divitiis  suis  posscderit  Croesus.  Hasc  enim 
"  tamdiu  multos  tenuit,  ut  cum  hoc  unum  tota  vita  quaere- 
"  rent,  tandem  nee  istud,  nee  aliud  invenirent." 

De  Nugis  Curialium,  lib,  vii.  cap.  12. 

NOTE  [I,]  page  167.  • 

*' SECTA  nominalium,  omnium  inter  scholasticas 

**  profundissima,  et  hodiernae  reformaiae  philosophandi  ra 
*'  tioni  congruentissima  ;  quae  quum  olim  maxima  floreret 
'*  nunc  apud  scholasticos  quidem,  extincta  est.     Unde  con 
**jicias    decrementa    potius    quam    augmenta   acuminis 
"  Quum  autem  ipse  Nizolius  noster  se  Nominalem  exser 
"  te  profitere  non  dubitet  prope  finem  capitis  sexti,  libri 
**  primi ;  et  vero  in  realitate  formalitatum   et  universalium 
*  evertenda  ncrvus  disputationis  ejus  omnis   potissimum 
*'  contineatur  pauca  quaedam  de  Nominalibus  subjicere  ope- 
"  rae  pretium  duxi.     Nominalcs  sunt,  qui  omnia  putant  cs- 
"  se  nuda  nomina  praecer  substantias  singulares,  abstracto- 
"  rum   igitur  et    universalium  realitatem    prorsus   tollunt. 
"  Primum  autem  nominalium  aiunt  fuisse  nescio  quem  Ru- 
**  cellinum  Britonem,  cujus,  occasione  cruenta  certamina  in 
**  academia  Parisiensi  fuerunt  excitata. 

*'  Diu  autem  jacuit  in  tenebris  secta  nominalium,  donee 
"  maximi  vir  ingenii,  et  eruditionis  pro  illo  sevo  summae, 
*'  Wilhelmus  Occam  Anglus,  Scoti  discipulus,  sed  mox 
*'  oppugnator  maximus,  de  improviso  eam  resuscitavit  ; 
*'  consensereGregorius  Ariminensis,  Gabr.  Biel,  et  plerique 
**  ordinis  Augustinianorum,  unde  et  in  Martini  Lutheri 
'*  scriptis  prioribus  amor  nominalium  satis  elucet,  donee 
'*  procedente  tempore  erga  omnes  monachos  aequaliier  af- 
**  fectus  esse  coepit.  Generalis  autem  regula  est,  qua  nom- 
*'  inales  passim  utuntur  ;  entia  non  esse  multiplicanda 
"  praeter  necessitatcm,  Hsec  regula  ab  aliis  passim  oppug- 
*'  natur,  quasi  injuria  in  divinam  ubertatem,  liberalem  poti- 
"  us  quam  parcam,  et  varietate  ac  copia  rerum  gaudeatem. 
''  Sed,  qui  sic  objiciunt,  non  satis  mihi  nominalium  men- 
*'  tem  cepisse  videntur^  quae,  etsi  obscurius  proposita,  hue 
**  redit  :  hypothesin  eo  esse  meliorem,  quo  simpliciorem, 
**  et  in  causis  eorum  quae  apparent  reddendis  eum  optime 
'*  se  gerere,  qui  quam  paucissima  gratis  supponat.  Nam 
"  qui  aliter  agit,  eo  ipso  naturam,  aut  potius  autorem  ejus 
^^  Deum  ineptae  superfluitatis  accusat.     Si  quis  astronomus 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  4S5 

'*  rationem  phenomenorum  ccelestium  reddere  potest  paucis 
"  suppositis,  meris  nimirum  mutibus  simplicibus  circular i- 
*'  bus,  ejus  certe  hypothesis  ejus  hypothesi  praeftirtuda  eril, 
"  qui  multis  orbibus  varie  implexis  ad  explicanda  ccelestia 
*'  indiget.  Ex  hac  jam  regula  nominales  deduxerunt,  om- 
"  nia  in  rerum  natura  explicari  posse,  eisi  universalibus  et 
*'  formalitatibus  realibus  prorsus  careatus  ;  qua  sententia 
*'  nihil  verius,  nihil  nostri  temporis  philosopho  dignius,  us- 
"  que  adeo,  ut  credain  ipsum  Occamum  non  tuisse  nomin- 
*'  aliorem  quam  nunc  est  Thomas  Hobbes,  qui,  ut  verum 
"  fatear,  mihi,  plusquam  nominalis  videtur.  Non  conten- 
'*  tus  enim  cum  nominalibus  universalia  ad  nomina  reduce- 
"  re,  ipsam  rerum  veritatem  aii  in  nominidus  consistere,  ac, 
*'  quod  majus  est,  pendere  ab  arbitrio  humano,  quia  Veritas 
"  pendeat  a  definitionibus  terminorum,  defioitiones  autem 
^'  terminorum  ab  arbitrio  humano,  Haec  est  senteniia  viri 
"  inter  profundissimos  seculi  censendi,  qua,  ut  dixi,  nihil 
*'  potest  esse  nominahus." 

This  passage  from  Leibnitz  has  given  rise  to  a  criticism 
of  MorhofF,  which  appears  to  me  to  be  extremely  ill-found- 
ed.— "  Accenset  nominalibus"  (says  he,)  **  Leibnitzius 
*'  Thomam  Hobbesium,  quem  ille  ipso  Occamo  nominalio- 
*'  rem,  et  plusquam  nominalem  vocat,  qui  non  contentus 
"  cum  nominalibus  universalia  ad  nomina  reducere,  ipsam 
*'  rerum  veritatem  ait  in  nominibus  consistere,  ac  quod  ma- 
**  jus  est,  pendere  ab  arbitrio  humano.  Quae  bella  ejus 
"  sententia,  quamquam  laudat  eam  Leibnitzius,  monstri 
"  aliquid  alit,  ac  plane  nequam  est.  Immania  enim  ex  uno 
"  summo  paradoxo  fluunt  absurda." 

MoRHoF.  Folyhistor.  vol.  ii.  page  81. 

I  shall  not  at  present  enter  into  a  particular  examination 
of  the  doctrine  here  ascribed  to  Hcbbes,  which  I  shall 
have  occasion  to  consider  afterwards  under  the  article  of 
Reasoning.  I  cannot,  however,  help  remarking  that  noth- 
ing but  extreme  inattention  to  the  writings  of  Leibnitz, 
could  have  led  MorhofF  to  suppose,  that  he  had  given  his 
sanction  to  such  an  opinion.  In  the  very  passage  which 
has  now  been  quoted,  the  cxpresr.ion  ("  qui  ut  verum  fatear, 
mihi  plus  quam  nofuinalis  videtur")  plainly  implies  a  cen- 
sure of  Hobbt  's  philosophy  ;  and  in  another  dissertation, 
intitled,  Med'itationes  de  Cognitione^  Ferifate^  et  Meis^  he  is 
at  pains  directly  to  refute  this  part  of  hia  svsiem  : — *^  Ai- 
**  que  ita  habemus  quoque  discrimen  inter  definitiones  nom- 
"  inales,qua2  notas  tantumreiab  aliis  disceruendse  continent, 


485  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

'*  et  reales,  ex  quibus  constat  rem  esse  possibilem,  et  hac 
*'  ratione  satisfit  Hobbio  qui  v.  ritates  volebat  esse  arbitra- 
'*  rias,  qui  exdefirjitionibasnonainalibus  penderent^  non  con- 
"  siderans  realitarem  dcfinitionis  in  arbitrio  non  esse,  nee 
"  quaslibet  notiones  inter  se  posse  conjungi.  Nee  defini- 
"  tiones  nr.minales  sufficiunt  ad  perfectam  scientam,  nisi 
'*  quando  aliunde  constat  rem  definitam  esse  possibilem, 
«  &c.  &c." 

Leibnitzii  Opera^  Edit,  Dutens^  torn.  ii.  p.  16,  17. 

NOTE  [K,]  page  173. 

*'  To  form  a  clear  notion  of  truth,  it  is  very  necessary  to 
^*  consider  truth  of  thoughc,  and  truth  of  words,  distinctly 
"  one  from  another  ;  but  yet  it  is  very  difficult  to  treat  of 
**  them  asunder  :  because  it  is  unavoidable,  in  treating  of 
"  mental  propositions,  to  make  use  of  words  :  and  then  the 
*'  instances  given  of  mental  propositions  cease  immediately 
**  to  be  barely  mental,  and  become  verbal.  For  a  mental 
«  proposition  being  nothing  but  a  bare  consideration  of  the 
"  ideas,  as  they  are  in  our  minds  stripped  of  names,  they 
"  lose  the  nature  purely  mental  propositions,  as  soon  as  they 
**  are  put  into  words. 

"  And  that  vvhich  makes  it  yet  harder  to  treat  of  mental 
"  and  verbal  propositions  separately,  is  that  most  men,  if 
'*noiall,  in  their  thinki  ig  and  reasonings  within  them- 
**  selves,  make  use  of  words  instead  of  ideas,  at  least  when 
"  the  sul)ject  of  their  meditation  contains  in  it  complex 
"  ideas."  Locke,  book  iv.  c.  5.  §  3,4. 

" But  to  return  to  the  consideration  of  truth. 

**  We  must,  I  say,  observe  two  sorts  of  propositions,  that 
"  we  are  capable  of  making. 

"  First,  mental,  wherein  the  ideas  in  our  understandings 
«*  are  without  the  use  of  words  put  together  or  separated  by 
"  the  mind,  perceiving  or  judging  of  their  agreement  or 
"  disagreement. 

"  Secondly,  verbal  propositions,  which  are  words,  the 
"  signs  of  our  ideas  put  together  or  separated  in  affirmative 
"  or  negative  sentences,  &c."  Ibid.  §  5. 

"  Though  the  examining  and  judging  of  ideas  by  ihem- 
"  selves,  their  names  being  quite  laid  aside,  be  the  best  and 
«'  surest  way  to  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  ;  yet  through 
**  the  prevailing  custom  of  using  sounds  for  ideas,  I  think  it 
"  is  very  seldom  practised.     Every  one  may  observe,  how 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  487 

"  common  it  is  for  names  to  be  made  use  of,  instead  of  the 
*  ideas  themselves^  even  when  men  think  and  reason  within 
**  their  own  breasts  :  especially  if  the  ideas  be  very  complex, 
"  and  made  up  of  a  great  collection  of  simple  ones.  This 
"  makes  the  consideration  of  words  and  propositions  so  ne- 
«  cessary  a  part  of  the  treatise  of  knowledge,  that  it  is  very 
<«  hard  to  speak  intelligibly  of  the  one,  without  explaining 
**  the  other. 

"  All  the  knowledge  we  have,  being  only  of  particular  or 
"  of  general  truths,  it  is  evident  that  whatever  may  be  done 
**  in  the  former  of  these,  rhe  latter  can  never  be  well  made 
"  known,  and  is  very  seldom  apprehended,  but  as  conceiv- 
**  ed  and  expressed  in  words.''  Book  iv.  c.  6.  §  1,2. 

From  thase  passages  it  appears,  that  Locke  conceived  the 
use  which  we  make  of  words  in  carrying  on  our  reasonings 
both  with  respect  to  particular  and  to  general  truths  to  be 
chiefly  the  effect  of  custom  ;  and  that  the  employment  of 
language  however  convenient,  is  not  essential  to  our  intel- 
lectual operations.  Plis  opinion  therefore  did  not  coincide 
with  that  which  I  have  ascribed  to  Nominalists. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  following  passage  shews  clearly, 
how  widely  his  opinion  differed  from  that  of  the  Realists  ; 
and  indeed  it  would  have  led  us  to  believe  that  it  was  the 
same  with  Berkley's,  had  not  the  foregoing  quotations  con- 
tained an  explicit  declaration  of  the  contrary. 

"  To  return  to  general  words,  it  is  plain,  by  what  has 
"  been  said,  that  general  and  universal  belong  not  to  the  re- 
*'  al  existence  of  things,  but  are  inventions  and  creatures  of 
'*  the  understanding,  made  by  it  for  its  own  use,  and  con- 
*'  cern  only  signs,  whether  words  or  ideas.  Words  are 
**  general,  as  has  been  said,  when  used  for  signs  of  general 
**  ideas*,  and  so  are  applicable  indifferently  to  many  particu- 
*'  lar  things  ;  and  ideas  are  general,  when  they  are  set  up 
*''  as  the  representatives  of  many  particular  things  ;  but  uni- 
*'  versality  belongs  not  to  things  themselves,  which  are  all 
**  of  them  particular  in  their  existence  ;  even  those  words 
"  and  ideas  whicli  in  their  signification  are  general.  When, 
"  therefore,  we  quit  parriculars,  the  generalb  that  rest  are 
**  only  creatures  of  our  own  making  ;  their  general  nature 
"  being  nothing  but  the  capacity  they  are  put  into  by  the 
"  understanding,  of  signifying  or  representing  many  partic- 
*'  lars.  For  the  signification  they  have,  is  nothing  but  a 
*'  relation  that  by  the  mind  of  man  is  added  to  ihem." 

Book  iii.  c.  3.  §  11. 


483  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  evident,  that  Mr.  Locke  was  neithet 
completely  satisfied  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Nominalists, 
nor  with  that  of  the  Kealists  ;  and  therefore  I  think  it  is 
with  good  reason,  that  Dr.  Reid  has  classed  him  with  the 
Conceptualists.  Indeed,  Mr.  Locke  has  put  this  matter 
beyond  all  doubt  himself  ;  for,  in  explaining  the  manner  in 
which  we  conceive  universals,  he  has  stated  his  opinion  in 
the  strongest  and  most  paradoxical  and  most  contradictory 
terms.  The  ridicule  bestowed  on  this  part  of  his  philoso- 
phy by  the  Author  of  Martinus  Scriblerus,  although  cen* 
sured  for  unfairness  by  Dr.  Warburton,  is  almost  justified 
by  some  of  his  expressions. 

NOTE  [L,]  page  180. 

IN  a  letter  from  Leibnitz  to  a  Scotch  gentleman  (Mr. 
Burnet  of  Kemney)  dated  in  the  year  1697,  there  is  the 
following  passage  ? 

'•  J'ay  considere  avec  attention  le  grand  ouvrage  du  cha- 
"  ractere  reel,  et  langage  philosophique  de  Monsieur  Wil- 
*'  kins.  Je  trouve  qu'il  y  a  mis  une  infinite  de  belles  choses, 
"  et  nous  n'avons  jamais  eu  une  table  des  predicamens  plus 
*'  accomplie.  Mais  I'application  pour  les  charactere,  et 
•'  pour  la  langue,  n'est  point  conforme  a  ce'qu'on  pouvoit 
*'  et  devoit  faire.  J'avois  considerecette  matiere  avant  le 
"  livre  de  Monsieur  Wilkins,  quand  j'etcis  un  jeune  homme 
**  de  dix  neuf  ans,  dans  mon  petit  livre  de  arte  combinatorial 
**  et  mon  opinion  est  que  ces  characteres  veritablement  reels 
*'  h.  philosophiques  doivent  repondre  a  I'analyse  des  pen- 
**  sees.  11  est  vray  que  ces  characteres  presupposent  la 
"  veritable  philosophic,  et  ce  n'est  que  presentement  que 
*'  j'oserois  entrependre  de  les  fabriquer.  Les  objections 
*'  de  M.  Dalgarus,  et  de  M.  Wilkins,  contre  la  methode 
-*  veritablement  philosophique  ne  sont  que  pour  excuser 
*'  rim  perfection  de  leurs  essais,  et  marquent  seulcment  Ics 
"  difficnltes  qui  les  en  ont  rebutes." 

The  letter,  of  which  this  is  a  part,  was  published  at  the 
end  of  A  defence  of  Dr.  Clarke,  (which  I  believe  is  com- 
monly ascribed  to  Dr.  Gregory  Sharpe,)  and  which  was 
printed  at  London  in  1744.  The  person  mentioned  by 
Leibnitz  under  the  name  of  M.  Dalgarus,  was  evidently 
George  Dalgarno,  a  native  of  Aberd.^en,  and  author  of  a 
small  and  very  rare  book,  intitled,  *"•  Ars  Signoritm.  vulgo 
*'  c/iaracter  tmiversalis  et  lingua  phihsojjhicay  qua  poterunt^ 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  489 

"  homines  diversissimorum  idiomatum^  spatio  duarunt  septi- 
*'  manarum,  omnia  animi  sui  sensa^  fm  rebusfamiliaribus^J 
"  non  minus  intelligibiliter^  sive  scribendo^  sive  loquendo^ 
"  mutuo  commumcare^  quam  Unguis  propriis  vernaculis, 
*'  Prceterea^  hinc  etiam  poterunt  juvenes^  philosophice princi' 
*-^ pia^  et  veram  logicce  praxin^  citius  etfacilius  multo  im^ 
"  bibere^  quam  ex  vulgaribus  philosophorum  scrtptis.'''' 

It  is  very  remarkable  that  this  work  of  Dalgarno  is  nev- 
er (at  least  as  far  as  I  recollect)  mentioned  by  Wilkins  ,•  al- 
though it  appears  from  a  letter  of  Charles  I.  prefixed  to 
Dalgarno's  book,  that  Wilkins  was  one  of  the  persons  who 
had  recommended  him  to  the  royal  favour. 

The  treatise  de  Arte  Combinatoria  is  published  in  the  se- 
cond volume  of  Dutens'  edition  of  Leibnitz's  works,  but  it 
does  not  appear  to  me  to  throw  much  light  on  his  views 
with  respect  to  a  philosophical  language. 

I  must  request  the  indulgence  of  the  reader  for  adding  to 
the  length  of  ikis  note,  by  quoting  a  passage  from  another 
performance  of  Leibnitz  ;  in  which  he  has  fallen  into  a 
train  of  thought  remarkably  similar  to  that  of  Mr.  Hume 
and  Dr.  Campbell,  in  the  passages  already  quoted  from  them 
in  this  section.  The  performance  is  entitled,  Meditationes 
de  Cogmtione^  Veritate  £sf  Idets^  and  is  printed  in  the  second 
volume  of  Dutens'  edition. 

*•  Plerumque  autem,  prsesertim  in  analyst  longiore,  non 
"  totam  simul  naturam  rei  intucmur,  sed  rerum  loco  signis 
*'  utimur,  quorum  explicationem  in  prsesenti  aliqua  cogita- 
*'  tione  compendii  causa  solemus  prsetermittere,  scientes, 
*'  aut  credentes  nos  eam  habere  in  protestate  :  ira  cum  chi- 
"  liogonum,seu  pollygonum  mille  eaqualium  laterum  cogito, 
'^  non  semper  naturam  lateris,  et  sequalitatis,  et  millenarii 
*'  (seu  cubi  a  denario)  considero,  sed  vocabulis  istis  (quo- 
"  rum  sensus  obscure  saltern,  atque  imperfecte  menti  ob- 
*'  versatur)  in  animo  utor  loco  idearum,  quas  de  iis  habeo, 
'*  quoniam  memini  me  significationem  istorum  vocabulorum 
*'  habere,  explicationem  autem  nunc  judico  necessariam  non 
*'  esse  ;  qualem  cogiiationem  csecam,  vel  etiam  symbolicam 
*'  appeliare  solec,  qua  et  in  algebra,  et  in  arithmetica  utimur, 
*'  imo  fere  ubique.  Et  certe  cum  notio  ralde  composita 
*'  est,  non  possumus  omnes  ingredientes  eam  notiones  simul 
*'  cogitare :  ubi  tamen  hoc  licet,  vel  saltem  in  quantum  licet, 
*^  cognitionem  voco  iniuitivam.  Notionis  distinctae  pri- 
*'  miiivse  non  alia  datur  cognitio,  quam  intuitiva,  ut  com- 
"  positarum  plerumque  cogitatio  non  nisi  svmbolica  est. 
Ooo 


490  NOTE^  AND  ILLLUSTRATIONS: 

"  Ex  his  jam  patet,  nos  eoruna  quoque,  quse  distincte 
*•*  cognoscimus,  ideas  non  precipere,  nisi  quatenus  cogita- 
*'  tione  intuitiva  utimur.  Et  sane  contingit,  ut  nos  ssepe 
"  falso  credames  habern  in  animo  ideas  rerum,  cum  falso 
*'  supponimus  aliquos  terminos,  quibus  utimur,  jam  a  no- 
''  bis  fuisse  explicatos  :  nee  verum  aat  certe  ambiguitati 
"  obnoxium  est,  quod  aiunt  aliqui,  non  posse  nos  de  re  ali- 
"  qua  dicere,  intelligendo  quod  dicimus,  quin  ejus  habea- 
"  mus  ideam.  Ssepe  enim  vocabula  ista  singula  atcunque 
"  intelligimus,  aut  nos  antea  intellixisse  meminimus,  quia 
"  tamen  hac  cogitatione  caeca  contenti  sumus,  et  resolution- 
"  em  notionum  non  satis  prosequimur,  fit  ut  laieat  nos  con- 
"  tradictio,  quam  forte  notio  composita  involvit." 


NOTE  [M,]page  199. 

AS  the  passage  quoted  in  the  text  is  taken  from  a  work 
which  is  but  little  known  in  this  country,  I  shall  subjoin  the 
original. 

"  Qu'il  me  soit  permis  de  presenter  a  ceux  qui  refusent 
"  de  croire  a  ces  pcrfectionnemens  successifs  de  I'espece 
"  humaine  un  exemple  pris  dans  les  sciences  ou  la  marche 
**  de  la  verite  est  la  plus  sure,  ou  elle  peuj  etre  mesuree 
*'  avec  plus  de  precision.  Ces  verites  elementaries  de  ge- 
ometric et  d'astronomie  qui  avoient  eie  dans  I'lnde  et 
'  dans  I'Egypte  une  doctrine  occulte,  sur  laquelle  des  pre- 
^^  tres  ambitieux  avoient  fonde  leur  empire^  etoient  dans  la 
^^  Grece,  au  temps  d'Archimede  ou  d'Hipparquf,  des  con- 
^j  noissances  vulgaises  enseignees  dans  les  ecolcs  com- 
^^  munes.  Dans  Ic  siecle  dernier,  il  suffisoit  de  quelques 
n  annees  d'eiude  pour  savoir  tout  ce  qu'Archimede  et  Hip- 
it  parque  avoient  pu  connoitre  ;  et  aujourd'hui  deux  annees 
a  deTenseignement  d'un  professeur  vont  au-dela  de  ce  que 
u  savoient  Leibnitz  ou  Newton.  Qu'on  medite  cet  exem- 
pt pie,  qu'on  saisisse  cette  chaine  qui  s'etend  d'une  pretre 
a  de  Memphis  a  Euler,  et  remplit  la  distance  immense  qui 
t'  les  separe  ;  qu'on  observe  a  chaque  epoque  la  genie  de- 
u  van^ant  le  siecle,  present,  et  la  mediocrite  atteignant  a 
^^  ce  qu'il  avoit  decouvert  dans  celui  qui  precedoii,  on  ap- 
^j  prendra  que  la  nature  nous  a  donnc  les  moyens  d'eparg- 
^^  ner  le  temps  et  de  menager  I'attention,  et  qu'il  n'existe 
^^  aucune  raison  de  croire  que  ces  moyens  puissent  avoir 
^^  un  terme.  On  verra  qu'au  moment  ou  une  multitude 
de  solutions  pariiciilicres,  de  faits  isoles  commencent  a. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS-  491 

**  epuiser  I'attention,  a  fatiguer  la  memoire,  ces  theories 
*'  dispersees  viennent  se  perdredanj*  une  methode  generale, 
"  tous  Lis  faits  se  reunir  dans  un  fait  unique,  et  que  ces 
"  generalizations,  ces  reunions  repetees  n'ont,  conrime  les 
"  multiplications  successives  d'un  nombre  par  lui-meme, 
"  d'autre  limite  qu'um  infini  auquel  il  est  impossible  d'at- 
"  teindre." 

Sur  P Instruction  publique^  par  M.  Condorcet. 


Continuation  of  Note  [M.]  C Second  Edition.  J 

HOW  much  is  it  to  be  regretted,  that  a  doctrine  so 
pleasing,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  philosophical,  should 
have  been  disgraced  by  what  has  been  since  written  by 
Condorcet  and  others,  concerning  the  Perfeciibiiity  of  Man, 
and  its  probable  effect  in  banishing  from  the  earth.  Vice, 
Disease,  and  Mortality !  Surely  they  who  can  reconcile 
their  minds  to  such  a  Creed,  might  be  expected  to  treat 
with  some  indulgence  the  credulity  of  the  multitude.  Nor 
is  it  candid  to  complain  of  the  slow  progress  of  Truth, 
when  it  is  blended  with  similar  extravagances  in  Philo- 
sophical Systems. 

While,  however,  we  reject  these  absurdities,  so  com- 
pletely contradicted  by  the  whole  analogy  of  human  affairs, 
we  ought  to  guard  with  no  less  caution  against  another 
Creed,  much  more  prevalent  in  the  present  times  ; — a 
Creed,  which  taking  for  granted  that  all  things  are  govern- 
ed by  chance  or  by  a  blind  destiny,overlooksthe  beneficentar- 
rangement  made  by  Providence  for  the  advancement  and 
for  the  diffusion  of  useful  knowledge  ;  and,  in  defiance  both 
of  the  moral  suggestions  and  of  the  universal  experience  of 
mankind,  treats  with  ridicule  the  supposed  tendency  of 
truth  and  justice  to  prevail  finally  over  falsehood  and  ini- 
quity. If  the  doctrine  which  encourages  these  favorable 
prospects  of  the  future  fortunes  of  our  race,  leads,  when 
carried  to  an  extreme,  to  paradox  and  inconsistency  ;  the 
system  which  represents  this  doctrine,  even  when  stated 
with  due  limitations,  as  altogether  groundless  and  visiona- 
ary,  leads,  by  a  short  and  inevitable  process,  to  the  conclu- 
sions either  of  the  Arhrist  or  of  the  Manichaean.  In  the 
midst,  indeed,  of  such  scenes  of  violence  and  anarchy  as 
Europe  has  lately  witnessed,  it  is  not  always  easy  for  the 
wisest  and  best  of  men  to  remain  faithful  to  their  princi- 


492  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

pies  and  their  hopes  :  But  what  must  be  the  opinions  and 
the  views  of  those,  who,  during  these  storms  and  convul- 
sions of  the  Moral  World,  find  at  once,  in  the  apparent  ret- 
rogradation  of  Human  Keason,  the  gratification  of  their 
Political  Ambition,  and  the  secret  triumph  of  ihcir  Scep- 
tical Theories  ? 

Fond,  impious  Man  !  Think' st  thou  yon  Sanguine  Cloud, 

Rais'd  by  thy  breath   has  quench'd  the  Orb  of  Day  ? 

To-niorrovv,  he  repairs  the  golden  flood, 

And  warms  the  Nations  with  redoubled  rayt 

NOTE  [N,]  page  222. 

IT  may  be  proper  to  remark,  that  under  the  title  oiOccori' 
cmists,  I  comprehend  not  merely  the  disciples  of  ^uesnai, 
but  all  those  writers  in  France,  who,  about  the  same  time 
with  him,  began  to  speculate  about  the  natural  order  of 
political  societies  ;  or,  in  other  words,  about  that  order 
which  a  political  society  would  of  itself  gradually  assume, 
on  the  supposition  that  law  had  no  other  object  than  to 
protect  completely  the  natural  rights  of  individuals,  and 
left  every  man  at  liberty  to  pursue  his  own  interest  in  his 
own  way,  as  long  as  he  abstained  from  violating  the  rights 
of  others.  The  connection  between  this  natural  order  and 
the  improvement  of  mankind,  has  been  more  insisted  on 
by  the  biographers  of  Turgot  than  by  any  other  authors  ; 
and  the  imperfect  hints  which  they  have  given  of  the  views 
of  that  truly  great  man  upon  this  important  subject,  leave 
us  much  room  to  regret  that  he  had  not  leisure  to  execute 
a  work,  which  he  appears  to  have  long  meditated,  on  the 
principles  of  moral  and  political  philosophy. 

Pie  de  M.  Turcot.  Partie  ii.  p.  5Z. 
It  is  merely  for  want  of  a  more  convenient  expression 
that  I  have  distinguished  these  different  writers  by  the  ti- 
tle of  OcconomisU*  It  is  in  this  extensive  sense  that  the 
%vord  is  commonly  imderstood  in  this  country  ;  but  I  am 
sensible  that  it  is  somewhat  ambiguous,  and  that,  without 
the  explanation  which  I  have  given,  some  of  my  observa- 
tions might  have  been  supposed  to  imply  a  higher  admira- 
tion dian  I  ieally  entertain  of  the  writings  of  M.  Quesnai, 
and  of  the  affected  phras'rology  employed  by  his  sect. 

The  connection  between  M.  Turgot  and  M.  Quesnai, 
and  the  coincidence  of  their  opinions  about  the  most  essen- 
tial principles  of  legislation,  will  I  hope  justify  me  for  rank- 
ing the  former  with  the  Oeconomists  j  although  his  views 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  493 

seem  to  have  been  much  more  enlarged  than  those  of  his 
contemporaries ;  and  ahhough  he  expressly  disclaimed  an 
implicit  acquiescence  in  the  opinions  of  any  particular  sect. 
"  M.  Turgot  etudia  la  doctrine  de  M.  Gournay  et  de 
"  M.  Quesnai,  en  profita,  se  la  rendit  propre  ,  et  la  com- 
*'  binant  avec  la  connoissance  qu^il  avoit  du  Droit,  &  avec 
*'  les  grandes  vues  de  legislation  civile  &  criminelle  qui  a- 
"  voient  occupe  sa  tete  &  interesse  son  coeur,  parvint  a  en 
"  former  sur  le  gouvernement  des  nations  un  corps  de  prin- 
"  cipes  a  lui,  embrassent  les  deux  autres,  et  plus   complet 


Memoires  sur  la  Vie  et  les  Ouvrages  de  M.  Turcot, 
par  M.  DupoNT,  p>  40,  41. 
"  II  a  passe  pour  avoir  ete  attache  a  plusieurs  sectes,  ou' 
**  a  plusieurs  sociefes  qu'on  appelait  ainsi ;  et  les  amis  ilou 
**  avait  dans  ces  societes  diverses  lui  reprochaient  sons  ces- 
"  se  de  n'etre  pas  de  leur  avis  ;  &  sans  cesse  il  leur  repro- 
"  chait  de  son  cote  de  vouloir  faire  communaute  d'opin- 
"  ions,  &  de  se  rendre  solidaires  les  uns  pour  les  autres. 
"  II  croyait  cette  marche  propre  a  retarder  les  progres 
"  memes  de  leurs  decouvertes."  Ibid.  p.  41,  43. 

NOTE  [O,]  page  306. 

THE  foregoing  observations  on  the  state  of  the  mind  in 
sleep,  and  on  the  phenomena  of  rdeaming,  were  written  as 
long  ago  as  the  year  1772;  and  were  read  (nearly  in  the 
form  in  which  they  now  are  published)  in  the  year  1773,  in 
a  private  literary  society  in  this  university.  A  considera- 
ble number  of  years  afterwards,  at  a  time  when  I  was  oc- 
cupied with  very  different  pursuits,  I  happened,  in  turning 
over  an  old  volume  of  thebcots  Magazine,  (the  volume  for 
the  year  1749,)  to  meet  with  a  short  essay  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, which  surprised  me  by  its  coincidence  with  some  ideas 
which  had  formerly  occurred  to  me.  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  this  essay  is  very  little  known,  as  I  have  never 
seen  it  referred  to  by  any  of  the  numerous  writers  who 
have  since  treated  of  the  human  mind ;  nor  have  even 
heard  it  once  mentioned  in  conversation.  I  had  some 
time  ago  the  satisfaction  to  learn  accidentally,  that  the  au- 
thor was  Mr.  Thomas  Mtlville,  a  gentleman  who  died  at 
the  early  age  of  27  ;  and  whose  ingenious  observations  on 
light  and  colors  (published  in  the  Essays  of  the  Edinburgh 
Philosophical  Society)  are  well  known  over  Europe. 


494  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  passages  which  coincide  the  most  remarkably  v/ith 
the  doctrine  I  have  stated,  are  the  following.  I  quote  the 
first  with  particular  pleasure,  on  account  of  the  support 
which  it  gives  to  an  opinion  which  I  formerly  proposed  in 
the  essay  on  Conception,  and  on  which  1  have  the  misfor- 
tune to  differ  from  some  of  my  friends. 

*'  When  I  am  walking  up  the  High-street  of  Edinburgh, 
"  the  objects  which  strike  my  eyes  and  ears  give  me  an  idea 
*' of  their  presence  ;  and  this  idea  is  lively,  full,  and  per- 
*'  manent,  as  arising  from  the  continued  operation  of  light 
"  and  sound  on  the  organs  of  sense. 

**  Again,  when  I  am  absent  from  Edinburgh,  but  conceiv- 
"  ing  or  imagining  myself  to  walk  up  the  High-street,  in  re- 
"■  lating,  perhaps,  what  befel  me  on  such  an  occasion,  I  have 
'^  likewise  in  my  mind  an  idea  of  what  is  usually  seen  and 
"  heard  in  the  High-street ;  and  this  idea  of  imagination  is 
*•  entirely  similar  to  those  of  sensation,  though  not  so  strong 
*'  and  durable, 

"  In  this  last  instance,  while  the  imagination  lasts,  be  itev- 
"  er  so  short,  it  is  evident  that  I  think  myself  in  the  street  of 
"  Edinburgh,  as  truly  as  when  I  dream  I  am  there,  or  even 
"  as  when  I  see  and  feel  I  am  there.  It  is  true,  we  cannot 
"  so  well  apply  the  word  beliej  in  this  case  ;  because  the 
"  perception  is  not  clear  or  steady  being  ever  disturbed, 
**  and  soon  dissipated,  by  the  superior  stsength  of  intruding 
*'  sensation  :  yet  nothing  can  be  more  absurd  than  to  say, 
**  thai  a  man  may,  in  the  same  individual  instant,  believe  he 
"  is  in  one  place,  and  imagine  he  is  in  another.  No  man 
*'  can  demonstrate  that  the  objects  of  sense  exists  without 
^'  him  ;  we  are  conscious  of  nothing  but  our  own  sensa- 
**  tions :  however,  by  the  uniformity,  regularity,  consisten- 
"  cy,  and  steadiness  ot  the  impressioa,  we  are  led  to  be- 
*'  lieve,  that  they  have  a  real  and  durable  cause  without 
•'  us ;  and  we  observe  not  any  thing  which  contradicts  this 
*^  opinion.  But  the  ideas  of  imagination,  being  transient 
*'  and  fleeting,  can  beget  no  such  opinion,  or  habitual  be- 
'*  lief;  though  there  is  as  much  perceived  in  this  case  as 
*'  in  the  former,  namely,  an  idea  of  the  object  within  the 
•'  mind.  It  will  be  easily  understood,  that  all  this  is  inten- 
*'  ded  to  obviate  an  objection  that  might  be  brought  against 
*'  the  similarity  of  dreaming  and  imagination,  from  our  be- 
*'  lieving  in  sleep  that  all  is  real.  But  there  is  one  fact, 
"  that  plainly  sets  them  both  on  a  parallel,  that  in  sleep  we 
'*  often  recollect  that  the  scenes  which   we  behold  are  a 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  495 

**  mere  dream,  in  the  same  manner  as  a  person  awake  is 
"  habitually  convinced  that  the  representations  of  his  ima- 
"  gination  are  fictitious." 

<■'  In  this  essay  we  m^ke  no  inquiry  into  the  state  of 

"  the  body  in  sleep/' 

'*  if  the  operations  of  the  mind  in  sleep  can  be  fair- 

<*  ly  deduced  from  the  same  causes  as  its  operations  when 
*'  awake,  we  are  certainly  advanced  one  considerable  step, 
**  though  the  causes  of  these  latter  should  be  still  unknown, 
*'  The  doctrine  of  gravitation,  which  is  the  most  wonderful 
«  and  extensive  discovery  in  the  whole  compass  of  human 
«  science,  leaves  the  descent  of  heavy  bodies  as  great  a 
"  mystery  as  ever.  In  philosophy,  as  in  geometry,  the 
"  whole  art  of  investigation  lies  in  reducing  things  that  are 
*'  difficult,  intricate,  and  remote,  to  what  is  simpler  and  easi- 
'*  er  of  access,  by  pursuing  and  extending  the  analogies  of 
«  nature." 

On  looking  over  the  same  essay,  I  find  an  observation 
which  I  stated  as  my  own  m  page  135  of  this  work.  "  The 
•*  mere  imagination  of  a  tender  scene  in  a  romance,  or  dra- 
"  ma,  will  draw  tears  from  the  eyes  of  those  who  know 
«  very  well,  when  they  recollect  themselves,  that  the  whole 
"  is  fictitious.  In  the  mean  time  they  must  conceive  it  as 
*«  real,  and  from  this  supposed  reality  arises  all  its  influence 
"  on  the  human  mind." 


Continuation  of  Note  [O.]     C^^cond  Edit?  on  J 

SOON  after  the  publication  of  the  First  Edition  of  this 
Work,  a  difficulty  was  started  to  roe  with  respect  to  my 
conclusions  concerning  the  state  of  the  mind  ?n  sleep,  by 
my  excellent  friend  .vir.  Prevost  of  Geneva  ;  a  Gentleman 
who  has  long  held  a  high  rank  in  the  republic  of  letters,  and 
to  whose  valuable  correspondence  I  have  often  been  in- 
debted for  much  pleasure  and  instruction.  The  same  dif- 
ficulty was  proposed  to  me,  nearly  about  the  same  time,  by 
another  friend  (then  at  a  very  early  period  of  life,)  who  has 
since  honorably  distinguished  himself  by  his  observa- 
tions on  Dr.  Darwin's  Zoonomia  ;  the  first  fruits  of  a  phi- 
losophical genius,  which,  I  trust,  is  destined  for  yet  more 
important  undertakings.* 

#  Observations  on  the  Zoonomia  of  Dr  Darwin.     By  Thomas  Brown, 
Esq.  Edinburgh,  1798. 


496  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS, 

As  Mr.  Prevost  has,  in  the  present  instance,  kindly  aid- 
ed me  in  the  task  of  removing  his  own  objection,  I  shall 
take  the  liberty  to  borrow  his  words  : 

**  Sans  Taction  de  hi  Volonte  point  d'effort  d'attention. 
"  Sans  quelque  effort  d'attention  point  de  Souvenir.  Dans 
«  le  Sommeil,  I'actione  de  la  Volonte  est  suspendue.  Cora- 
"  ment  done  reste  t-il  quclque  Souvenir  des  Songes? 

"  Je  vois  hien  deux  ou  trois  responses  a  cette  difficulte. 
'•  Quant  a  present,  elles  se  reduisent  a  dire,  ou  que  dans  un 
**  Sommeil  parfait,  il  n'y  a  nul  Souvenir,  et  que  la  ou  il  y  a 
<'  Souvenir,  le  Sommeil  n'etoitpas  parfait  ,•  ou  que  Taction 
**  de  la  Volonte  qui  suffit  pour  le  Souvenir  n'est  pas  suspen- 
**  due  dans  le  Sommeil ;  que  ce  degre  d'activite  reste  a 
'*  Tame  ;  que  ce  n'est,  pour  ainsi,  dire,  qu*  une  Volonte 
**  elemcntaire  et  comme  insensible." 

I  am  abundantly  sensible  of  the  force  of  this  objection  ; 
and  am  far  from  being  satisfied,  that  it  is  in  my  power  to 
reconcilti  completely  the  apparent  inconsistency.  The  gen- 
eral conclusions,  at  the  same  time,  to  which  I  have  been 
led,  seem  t9  result  so  necessarily  from  the  facts  I  have  sta- 
ted, that  even  although  the  difficulty  in  question  should  re- 
main for  the  present  unsolved,  it  would  not,  in  my  opinion, 
materially  aflfect  the  evidence  on  which  they  rest.  In  all 
our  inquiries,  it  is  of  consequence  to  remember,  that  when 
we  have  once  arrived  at  a  general  principle  by  a  careful  in- 
duction, we  are  not  entitled  to  reject  it,  because  we  may 
find  ourselves  unable  to  explain  from  it,  synthetically,  all 
the  phenomena  in  which  it  is  concerned.  The  Newtonian 
Theory  of  the  Tides  is  not  the  less  certain,  that  some  ap- 
parent exceptions  occur  to  it,  of  which  it  is  not  easy  (in 
consequence  of  our  imperfect  knowledge  ot  the  local  cir- 
cumstances by  which,  in  particular  cases,  the  effect  is  mod- 
ified) to  give  a  satisfactory  explanation. 

Of  the  solutions  suggested  by  Mr.  Prevost,  the  first  co- 
incides most  nearly  with  my  own  opinion  ;  and  it  approach- 
es to  what  I  have  hinted  (in  page  133  of  this  work)  con- 
cerning the  seeming  exceptions  to  my  doctrine,  which  may 
occur  in  those  cases  where  sleep  is  partial.  A  strong  con- 
firmation of  it,  undoubtedly,  may  be  derived  from  the  ex- 
perience of  those  persons  (several  of  whom  1  have  happen- 
ed to  meet  with)  who  never  recollect  to  have  dreamed,  ex- 
cepting when  the  soundness  of  their  sleep  was  disturbed  by 
some  derangement  in  their  general  health,  or  by  some  acci- 
dent which  excited  a  bodily  sensation. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  49r 

Another  solution  of  the  difficulty  might  perhaps  be  de- 
rived from  the  facts  (stated  in  pp.  197",  198,  of  this  volume) 
which  prove  "  that  a  perception^  or  an  idea,  which  passes 
"  through  the  mind,  without  leaving  any  traoe  in  ihe  menfi- 
"  cry,  may  yet  serve  to  introduce  other  ideas  connected 
**  with  it  by  the  Laws  of  Association." 

From  this  principle  it  follows,  that  if  any  one  of  the 
more  remarkable  circumstances  in  a  dream  should  recur  to 
ws  after  we  awake,  it  might  (without  our  exerting  during 
sleep  that  attention  which  is  essential  to  memo>y)  revive 
the  same  concatenation  of  particulars  with  which  it  was 
formerly  accompanied.  And  what  is  a  dream^  but  such 
a  concatenation  of  seeming  events  presenting  itself  to  the 
imagination  during  our  waking  hours  ;  the  origin  cf  which 
we  learn  by  experience  to  refer  to  that  interval  which  is 
employed  in  sleep  ; — finding  it  impossible  to  conect  it  with 
any  specific  time  or  place  in  our  past  history  ?  One  thing 
is  certain,  that  we  cannot,  by  any  direct  acts  of  recollection, 
recover  the  train  of  our  sleeping  thoughts,  as  we  can,  in  an 
evening,  review  the  meditations  ©f  the  preceding  day. 

Another  cause,  it  must  be  owned,  presents  an  Obstacle  to 
such  efforts  of  recollection  ;  and  is,  perhaps,  adequate  of  it- 
self to  explain  the  fact.  During  the  day,  we  have  many 
aids  to  memory  which  are  wanting  in  sleep  (those,  in  par- 
ticular, which  are  furnished  by  the  objects  of  our  external 
senses  ;)  and  of  these  aids  we  never  fail  to  avail  ourselves, 
in  attencpting  to  recollect  the  thoughts  in  which  the  day 
has  been  spent.  We  consider,  m  what  place  we  were  at 
a  particular  time,  and  what  persons  and  things  we  ihete 
saw  ;  endeavoring  thus  to  lay  hold  of  our  intellectual  pro- 
cesses, by  means  of  the  sensible  objects  with  which  they 
were  associated  :  and  yet,  with  all  these  advantages,  the 
account  which  most  men  are  able  give  of  their  meditations 
at  the  close  cf  a  long  summer's  dd\,  will  not  be  found  to 
require  many  sentences.  As  in  sleep,  our  communication 
with  the  external  world  is  completely  interrupted,  it  is  not 
sui  prising,  that  the  memory  of  our  dreams  should  be  much 
more  imperfect  than  that  of  our  waking  th'Ughts  ;  even 
supposing  us  to  bestow,  at  the  moment,  an  equal  degree  uf 
attention  on  both. 

It  is  of  more  importance  to  remark,  in  the  present  argu- 
ment, that  those  persons  who  are  subject  to  Somnambulism^ 
seldom  if  ever,  retain  any  recollection  of  the  objects  of 
iheir  perceptions,  while  under -the  influence  of  this  disor- 


498  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

den  If  the  principles  I  have  endeavored  to  establish  be 
just,  tiiis  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  their  inattention  to 
what  then  pa  ses  around  them  ;  an  inattention  of  which  no- 
body can  doubt»  who  has  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing 
the  vacant,  and  unconscioos  stare  which  their  eyes  exhibit. 
The  same  fact  illusirates  strongly  the  suspension,  during 
sleep,  of  those  voluntary  powers,  to  which  the  operations 
both  of  mind  and  body  are  at  other  times  subjected. 

These  consi:ierations  derive  additional  evidence  from  a 
GO'.nmon  remark,  thar  idle  people  are  most  apt  to  dream, 
or,  at  least,  to  recollect  dieir  dreams.  The  thoughts  of  the 
busy  and  of  the  studious  are  directed  by  their  habitual  oc- 
cupations into  a  particular  channel ;  and  the  spontaneous 
course  of  their  ideas  is  checked,  and  turned  aside,  by  the 
unremitted  activity  of  their  minds.  In  the  heedless  and 
dissipated,  the  thoughts  wander  carelessly  from  object  to 
object,  according  to  the  oovious  relations  of  resemblance 
and  of  analogy,  or  of  vicinity  in  place  and  time.  As  these 
are  the  prevailing  principles  of  association  in  sleep,  the 
chances  that  the  dreams  of  such  men  shall  be  again  present- 
ed to  them  m  the  course  of  the  f  jllowing  day,  are  infinitely 
multiplied. 

Which  of  these  solutions  approaches  most  nearly  to  the 
real  state  of  the  fact,  I  do  not  presume  to  decide.  I  think 
it  probable,  that  both  of  them  are  entitled  to  notice,  in  com- 
paring the  pht-nomena  of  dreaming  with  the  general  prin- 
ciples to  which  I  have  endeavored  to  referthem.  In  cases 
where  our  dreams  are  occasioned  by  bodily  sensations,  or 
by  bodily  indisposition,  it  may  be  expected  that  the  distur- 
bed state  of  our  rest  will  prevent  th?t  total  cessation  of  the 
power  of  attention,  which  takes  place  when  sleep  is  pro- 
found and  complete  j  and,  in  such  instances,  the  attention 
which  is  given  to  our  passing  thoughts,  may  enable  us  af- 
terwards to  retrace  them  bv  an  act  ot  recollection.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  more  general  fact  imquestionablv  is,  that  at 
the  moment  of  our  awaking,  the  interval  spent  in  sleep  pre- 
sents a  total  blank  to  the  memory ;  and  vet,  it  happens  not 
unfrequently,  ^hat,  at  the  distance  of  hours,  some  acciden- 
tal circumstance  occurring  to  our  thoughts,  or  suggested  to 
us  from  without,  revives  a  long  train  of  particulars  associa- 
ted in  the  mind  widi  each  other  j  to  which  train  (not  being 
able  to  account  otheiwise  for  the  concatenation  of  its  parts) 
vre  give  the  pame  of  a  Dream, 

After  all,  I  am  very  far  'from  supposing  that  I  have  ex- 
hausted this  subject ;  and  I  shall  be  fully  satisfied  with  the 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  499 

success  of  my  inquiries,  if  those  who  are  qualified  to  dis- 
tinguish between  legitimate  and  hypothetical  theories  shall 
admit,  that  I  have  pointed  out  the  plan  on  which  these  phe- 
nomena should  be  studied,  and  have  made  so>r;e  progress, 
(how  small  soever)  towards  its  execution.  Much  addition- 
al light,  I  am  sensible,  might  have  been  easily  thrown  on 
this  part  of  our  constitution,  as  well  as  upon  many  others, 
if  I  had  not  imposed  on  myself  the  restraint  of  adhering, 
wherever  it  was  at  all  posssible,  to  the  modes  of  speaking 
employed  by  my  predecessors  in  describing  our  mental  op- 
erations. 

One  remark  I  must  beg  leave  to  recommend  to  the  con- 
sideration of  thorie  who  may  hereafter  engage  in  this  re- 
search;  that,  among  the  astonishing  appearances  exhibited 
by  the  mind  in  sleep,  a  very  large  proportion  are  precisely 
analogous  to  those  of  which  we  are  every  momtnt  conscious 
while  awake.  If  the  exciting  causes,  for  example,  of  our 
Dreams  seem  mysterious  and  inscrutable,  is  not  the  fact 
the  same  with  the  origin  of  every  idea  or  thought  which 
spontaneously  solicits  our  notice  ?  The  only  difference  is, 
that  in  the  latter  instance,  in  consequence  of  long  and  con- 
stant familiarity,  they  are  surveyed  by  all  with  little  won- 
der, and  by  roost  with  hardly  any  attention.  In  the  for- 
mer instance,  they  rouse  the  curiosity  of  the  most  illiterate, 
from  their  comparative  infrequency,  and  from  the  contrast 
which,  in  some  respects,  iht-y  present  to  the  results  of  our 

habitual  experirnce. It  is  thus,  that  a  peasant  who  has 

been  accustomed  from  his  infancy  to  see,  withotit  any  emo- 
tion, the  fall  of  heavy  bodies  to  the  ground,  never  fails  to 
express  the  liveliest  admiration  when  he  first  witnesses  the 
powers  of  the  loadstone. 

In  such  cases,  the  researches  of  genuine  science  have  r 
tendency  to  produce  two  moral  effects  equally  beneficial. 
The  one  is  to  illustrate  the  unity  of  design  in  nature,  by 
reconciling  vyhat  seems,  from  \u  rarity  or  singularity,  to  be 
mysterious  or  incomprehensible,  with  the  general  laws 
which  are  familiarised  to  us  by  daily  experience  ;  the  oth- 
er, to  counteract  the  effects  of  familiarity  in  blunting  our 
natural  curiosity  with  respect  to  these  laws,  by  leading  the 
thoughts  to  some  of  their  more  curious  and  apparently  a- 
nomalous  applications. 

The  phenomena  of  Dreaming  may  perhaps,  in  this  last 
point  of  view,  form  an  article  not  altogether  useless  in  the 
Natural  History  of  Man  ;  inasmuch  as  they  contribute  to 
attract   our   attention  to   those  intellectual  powers,  from 


500  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

which  it  is  so  apt  to  be  withdrawn  by  that  external  world, 
which  affords  the  first,  and  (for  the  comnnon  purposes  of 
life)  the  most  interesting  field  for  their  exercise.  In  my 
own  case,  at  least,  this  supposition  has  been  exacily  verifi- 
ed ;  as  the  speculations  concerning  the  human  mind  which 
I  have  ventured  to  present  to  the  public,  i^ll  took  their  rise 
from  the  subject  to  which  this  note  refers.  The  observa- 
tions which  I  have  stated  with  respect  to  it  iu  the  text  (ex- 
cepting a  very  few  paragraphs  since  added)  were  written  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  and  formed  a  part  of  the  first  philo- 
sophical essay  which  I  recollect  to  have  attempted.  I'he 
same  essay  contained  the  substance  of  w^iat  I  have  introdu- 
ced in  cha,)ter  third,  concerning  the  belief  accompanying 
conception  ;  and  of  the  remarks  stated  in  the  third  section 
of  chapter  fifth,  on  the  extent  of  the  power  which  the  mind 
has  over  the  train  of  its  thoughts.  When  I  was  afterwards 
led  professionally,  at  the  distance  of  man\  years,  to  resume 
the  same  studies,  this  short  manuscript  was  almost  the  on- 
ly memorial  I  had  preserved  of  these  favorite  pursuits  of 
niy  early  youth  ;  and  from  the  views  which  it  recalled  to 
me,  insensibly  arose  the  Analvsis  I  have  since  undertaken 
of  our  intellectual  faculties  in  general. 

For  some  indulgence  to  the  egotism  of  this  note,  I  must 
trust  to  the  good  nature  of  my  readers.  It  has  been  length- 
ened much  beyond  my  original  intention,  by  an  anxiety 
(not,  I  hope,  unpardonable  in  an  Author)  to  fix  the  date  of 
some  of  my  disquisitions  and  conclusions,  of  which  it  is 
bighlv  probable  I  may  magnify  the  importance  beyond 
their  just  value.  The  situation  of  a  public  teacher,  (I  must 
beg  leave  to  add,)  by  Igiving  an  immediate  circulation  to 
the  doctrines  he  delivers,  exposes  him  to  many  inconven- 
iences which  other  classes  of  literary  men  have  in  their  pow- 
er to  avoid. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks,  I  cannot  help  remind- 
ing my  readers  once  more,  that  my  fundamental  principle 
with  respect  to  the  state  of  the  mind  in  sleep  is, — not  that 
the  power  of  volition  is  then  suspended  ;  but,  thai  the  infu- 
ence  of  thewillov^Y  iV.G  i^cuKiiis  both  of  mind  and  body 
is  then  interrupted.  (See  pp.  290,  291,  292,  293.)  I  men- 
tion this  chiefly,  in  order  to  mark  the  difference  between  ' 
my  doctrine  and  that  maintained  in  Dr.  Darwin's  Zoono- 
mia*  According  to  this  ingenious  writer,  "  the  power  of 
*'  volition  is  totally  suspended  in  perfect  sleep."  (Zoono- 
mia,  vol. }.  p.  3 15.) — ''  In  the  hicubus*'  (he  observes,)  ''  the 
*'•  desire  of  moving  the  body  is  painfully  exerted  j  but  th^ 


NOTES  AND  ILLCSTRATIONS.  501 

"  power  of  moviJig  it^  or  volition,  h  incapable  of  action  till 
'*  we  awake."  (p.  288.)  Would  he  no-  have  stated  the 
fact  more  correctly,  il  he  had  B2iu\\\\^x.  volition  is  painfully 
exerted  ;  but  that  the  power  of  moving  the  body  is  suspttn- 
ded  ?  In  the  very  accurate  phraseology  of  Mr.  Locke, 
*'  volition  is  an  act  of  the  mind,  knowingly  exerting  that 
"  dominion  it  takes  itself  to  hive  over  any  part  of  the  men, 
*'  by  employing  it  in,  or  withholding  it  from  any  particular 
'•action."  This  act  of  the  mind,  Dr.  D:irwin  expresses  by 
the  word  desire  ;  an  indistinctness  still  extremely  common 
among  metaphysical  writers  ;  although  it  was  long  ago  re- 
marked and  censured  by  the  eminent  author  jasr  quoted: 
*'  I  find"  'says  Locke,)  "  the  xvill  ofcen  confoundt-d  with 
"  desire,  and  one  put  for  the  other  ;  and  that  by  men,  who 
**  would  not  willingly  be  thought,  not  to  have  very  distinct 
"  notions  of  things,  and  not  to  have  written  very  clearly 
*'  about  them.''  (Essay  on  Human  Understanding,  vol.  i. 
p.  203.  13th  edition.) 

NOTE  [P,]  page  30r. 

Dr.  REID  has  with  great  truth,  observed,  that  Des  Cartes"' 
reasoning  against  the  existence  '.f  the  secondary  qualities 
of  matter,  owe  all  their  plausibility  to  the  ambiguity  of 
words. — When  he  affirms,  for  example  that  the  smell  of  a 
rose  is  not  in  the  flower  but  in  the  mind,  his  proposition 
amounts  only  to  this,  that  the  rose  is  not  conscious  of  the 
sensation  of  smell  :  but  it  does  not  follow  from  Des  C^^rtes* 
reasonings,  that  there  is  no  quality  in  the  rose  which  ex- 
cites the  sensation  of  smell  in  th"  mind  ; — which  is  all  that 
any  person  means  when  he  speaks  of  the  sn^ell  of  that  flow- 
er. For  the  word  smelL  like  the  names  of  all  secondary 
qualities,  signifies  two  things,  a  sensation  in  the  mind,  and 
the  unknown  quality  which  fits  it  to  excite  that  sensation.* 

*  Some  judicious  remarks  on  this  ambiguity  in  the  names  of  secondary 
qualities,  are  made  by  Malebranche  : 

"  It  is  only  (says  he)  since  the  time  of  Des  Cartes,  that  those; confused 
*'  and  indetermina'e  questions,  whether  fire  is  hot,  grass  green,  and  sugar 
*'  sweet,  phihtsophers  are  in  use  to  answer,  b>  distinguishing  thv.-  equivocal 
'*  meaning  of  tlie  words  expressing  sensible  quahties  It  by  heat,  cold,  and 
*'  savour,  yau  understand  such  and  such  a  disposition  of  parts,  or  some  un- 
«'  known  motion  of  insensible  particles,  than  fire  is  hot,  grass  green,  and 
*•  sugar  sweet.  But  if  by  hear  and  other  qualities  you  understand  what  I 
**  ftel  by  fire,  what  I  see  in  grass,  &.c.  fire  is  not  hot,  nor  gra^s  gteen  ;  for 
"  the  heat  I  feel,  and  the  colours  1  see,  are  only  in  th?  soul.'* 


m  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  same  remark  applies  to  that  process  of  reasoning  by 
which  Des  Caries  attempts  to  prove  that  there  is  no  hvtat  in 
the  fire. 

All  this,  I  think,  will  he  readily  allowed  with  respect  to 
smells  and  tastes,  and  also  with  respect  to  heat  and  cold  ; 
concerning  which  I  agree  with  Dr.  Reid,  in  thinking  that 
Dcs  (yat  tes'  Jrictrine,  when  cleared  of  that  air  of  mystery 
which  it  derives  from  the  arahiguity  of  words,  differs  very 
little  if  at  all,  from  (he  commouly  received  notions.  But 
the  case  seems  to  be  different  with  respect  to  colours^  of  the 
nature  of  which  -he  vulgar  are  apt  to  form  a  very  confused 
conception,  which  the  philosophy  of  D  a  Cartes  has  a  ten- 
dency t'j  correct.  Dr.  Rtid  has  jusdy  distinguished  the 
quality  of  colour  from  what  he  calls  the  appearance  of  col- 
our, which  last  can  only  exist  in  a  mmd*.  Now  I  am  dis- 
posed to  believe,  that  when  the  vulgar  speak  of  colour,  they 
commonly  mean  the  appearance  of  colour,  or  rather  they 
associate  the  appearance  and  its  cause  so  intimately  togeth- 
er, that  they  find  it  impossible  to  think  of  them  separately.! 
The  senaarion  of  colour  never  f(jrms  one  simple  object  of 
attention  to  (he  mind  like  those  of  smell  and  taste  ;  but 
every  time  we  are  conscious  of  it,  we  perceive  at  the  same 
time  extension  and  figure.  Hence  it  is,  that  we  find  it  im- 
posiible  to  conceive  colour  without  extension,  though  cer- 
tainly there  is  no  more  necessary  connection  between  them, 
than  between  extension  and  smell. 

*  Dr.  Akens'de,  inoneof  hisNotes  onhUPLEAsuiiEs  of  Imagination, 
observes,  that  colours,  as  apprehended  by  the  mind,  dt>  not  exist  in  the  body. 
By  trti'^  qualUicatiou,  he  piainly  means  lo  dib  niguish  what  Dr.  Reid  calls  the 
appearance  of  colour,  from  colour  considered  as  a  qualiry  of  matter- 

+  Dr.  Reid  is  of  opinion,  that  the  vulgar  always  ipean  to  express  by  the 
■word  colow,  a  quality,  and  not  a  sensation.  '■  Colour  (says  he)  differs  from 
*'  other  secondary  qnaluiesin  this,  that  whereas  the  name  of  the  quality  is 
*'  sometimes  given  to  the  sensation  which  indicates  it,  and  is  occasioned  by 
"  it,  we  never,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  give  the  name  of  colour  to  the  "^ensa- 
'♦  tion  but  to  the  quility  oiily."  This  question  is  of  no  consequence  for  us 
to  discuss  at  present,  as  Dr.  Reid  acknowledges  in  the  following  passage,  rliat 
the  sensation  and  quality  are  so  intima  ely  united  togc her  in  the  mind,  that 
they  seem  to  f  >rm  only  one  simple  object  of  thought.  *'  When  we  think 
*'  or  speak  f  any  particular  colour,  however  simple  the  notion  may  seem  to 
'*  be  which  is  preseared  to  the  imagination,  it  is  really  in  some  sort  com- 
"  pounded  ;  it  involves  an  unknown  cause  and  a  known  effect.  The  name 
'•  of  co/yur  belongs  indeed  to  the  cause  only,  and  not  to  the  effect.  But  as 
'*  the  cause  is  unkno  vn,  we  can  form  no  distinct  conception  of  it,  but  by  its 
**  relatioH  to  the  known  effect.  And  therefore  both  go  together  in  the  im- 
"  agination,  and  are  so  closely  united  that  they  are  mistaken  fjr  one  simple 
^'  object  of  thought.'*         Inquiry  into  (be  Human  Mind,  chap,  vi.  sect,  4, 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  50S 

From  this  habit  of  associating  the  two  together,  we  are 
led  also  to  assign  them  the  same  place,  and  to  conceive  the 
different  colours,  or  (to  use  Dr.  Keid's  language)  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  different  colours,  as  something  spread  over 
the  surfaces  of  bodies.  I  own  that  when  we  reflect  on  the 
subject  with  attention,  we  find  this  conception  to  be  indis- 
tinct, and  see  clearly  that  the  appearance  of  colour  can  exist 
only  in  a  mind  :  but  still  it  is  some  confused  notion  of  this 
sort,  which  every  man  is  disposed  to  form  who  has  not 
been  very  familiarly  conversant  with  philosophical  inquir- 
ies.— 1  find,  at  least,  that  such  is  the  notion  which  most 
readily  presents  itself  to  my  own  mind. 

Nor  is  this  reference  ot  the  sensation,  or  appearance  of 
colour,  to  an  external  object,  a  face  altogether  singular  in 
our  constitution.  It  is  extremely  analogous  to  the  reference 
which  we  always  make,  of  the  sensations  of  touch  to  those 
parts  of  the  body  where  the  exciting  causes  of  the  sensations 
exist. — If  I  strike  my  hand  against  a  hard  object,  I  natural- 
ly say,  that  1  feel  pain  in  my  hand.  The  philosophical 
truth  is,  that  I  perceive  the  cause  of  the  pain  to  be  applied 
to  that  part  of  my  body.  The  sensation  itself  I  cannot  re- 
fer in  point  of  place  to  the  hand,  without  conceiving  the 
soul  to  be  spread  over  the  body  by  diffusion. 

A  still  more  striking  analogy  to  the  fact  under  our  con- 
sideratioli,  occurs  in  those  sensations  of  touch  which  we 
refer  to  a  place  beyond  the  limits  of  the  body  ;  as  in  the  case 
of  pain  felt  in  an  amputated  limb. 

The  very  mtimate  combination  to  which  the  foregoing 
observations  on  the  sensation  of  colour  relate,  is  taken  no- 
tice of  by  d'Alembert  in  the  Encyclopedic^  as  one  of  the 
most  curious  phenomena  of  the  human  mind. 

"  II  ebt  tres  evident  que  h  mot  couleur  ne  designe  aucii- 
*'  ne  proprieie  du  corps,  mais  seulement  une  modificaiion 
**  de  none  ame  ;  qua  la  blancheur,  par  exemple,la  rongeur, 
*'  &CC.  n'existent  que  dans  nous,  et  nuUement  dans  le  corps 
"  ausquels  nous  les  rapportons  ;  neanmoins  par  une  habi- 
"  tudc  prise  des  nortre  enfance,  c'est  une  chose  tres  sigu- 
"  Here  et  digiie  de  Tattention  des  metaphysicians,  que  cc 
*'  penchant  que  nous  avons  a  rapporter  a  nne  substance 
*'  m<iiericlle  et  divisible,  ce  qui  appartient  reelltmenl  a  une 
"  substance  spirituelle  et  simple  ;  et  rien  n'est  peut  etre 
*'  plus  extraordinaire  dans  les  operations  de  ncrte  ame,  que 
"  <le  la  voir  transporter  hors  d'elle-u.eme  et  etendre,  pour 
*'  ainsi  dire,  ses  sensations  sur  une  substance  a  laquelle  ei- 
"  les  ne  peuvent  appartenir." 


^di  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

From  the  following  passage  in  Condillac's  Traite  ded 
Sensations,  it  appears  that  the  phenomenon  here  remarked 
by  ci'Alembert,was^  in  Condillac's  opinion,  the  natural  and 
obvious  effect  of  an  early  and  habitual  association  of  ideas* 
I  quote  it  with  the  greater  pleasure,  that  it  contains  the 
happiest  illustration  I  have  seen  of  the  doctrine  which  I 
have  been  attempting  to   esplain. 

'*On  pourroit  faire  une  supposition,  ou  Todorat  appren- 
"  droit  a  joger  parsaitement  des  grandeurs,  des  figures,  des 
*'  situetions,  et  des  distances.  II  sufEroit  d'un  cote  de 
"  soumettre  ies  corpuscules  odoriferans  aux  loix  de  la  diop- 
*^  trique,  et  de  Tauire,  de  construire  I'oigane  de  Todorat  a 
**  peu  prcs  sur  le  modele  de  celui  de  la  vue  ;  ensorte  que 
"  Ies  rayons  odoriferans,  apres  s*etre  croise  a  Touverture, 
*'  frappassent  sur  una  membrane  interiure  autant  de  points 
'•  distincts  qu'il  y  en  a  sur  Ies  surfaces  d'ou  ils  seroienc 
**  reflechis. 

"  En  pareil  cas,  nous  contracterions  bientot  Thabitude 
'*^  d'etendre  Ies  odeurs  sur  ies  objets,  et  Ies  philosophes  ne 
*'  manqueroient  pas  de  dire,  que  Todorat  n'a  pas  besoin  des 
*'  lecons  du  toucher  pour  appercevoir  des  grandeurs  et  des 
"  figures." 

Ocuvres  de  Condillac. — Edit*  Amst.  vol.  v.  p.    223. 

NOTE  [Q,]  page  308. 

"  VERUM  quidem  est,  quod  hodierni  musici  sic  Ibqui 
*'  soleant  (acutum  in  alto  reputantes  et  grave  inimo)  quod- 
*'  que  ex  Graxis  recentrioribus  nonnulli  sic  aliquando  (sed 
**  rare)  loqaitti  videantur  ;  apud  quos  sensim  molevit  mos 
"  sic  loquendi. — Sed  antiquiores  Grseci  plane  contrariuni 
*«  (grave  rt- putantes  in  alto  et  acutum  in  imo.j  Quod  etiam 
*'  ad  Boethii  tempora  continuatum  est,  qui  in  schematismis 
**  suis,  grave  semper  in  summo  ponit,  et  acutum  in  imo." 
David  Gregory,  in  Prosfat,  ad  edit,  suam  Euclid.  Op» 
Gxon.  1703. 

The  association  to  which,  in  modern  times,  we  are  habi- 
tuated from  our  infancy,  between  the  ideas  of  acute  and 
high,  and  between  those  of  grave  and  low,  is  accounted  for  by 
Dr.  Smith,  in  his  Harmonics,  from  the  formation  of  the  voice 
in  siriginj>:  ;  which  Aristides  Quiruil'Jmus  thus  describes  ; 
*'  Tmrai  ^e  ^  />tav  ^apvrvis,  kxtuQev  ava^£po//,iv»  ru  'Trnvf/i.aros,  07  0'  o^vrris 

^^sirtTToKns  'Trpoisy.eya^  ^q,     £t  quidem  gravitas  fit,  si  ex  inferi- 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS-  505 

"  ore  parte  (gutturis)  spirltus  sursum  feratur,  acumen  vero, 
"  si  per  sum  mam  partem  prorumpat  ;"  (as  Meibcmius 
translates  it  in  his  notes.)  See  Smith's  Harmonics^  p.  3. 
Dr.  Beattie,inhis  ingenious  Essa}  on  Poetry  and  Music, 
says,  it  is  probable  that  the  deepest  or  gravest  sound  v/as 
called  summa  by  the  Romans,  and  the  shrillest  or  acutest 
ima  :  and  he  conjectures,  that  "  this  might  have  been  owing 
'*  to  the  construction  of  their  instruments  ;  the  string  that 
"  sounded  the  former  being  perhaps  highest  in  place,  and 
"  that  which  sounded  the  latter  lowest."  If  this  conjecture 
could  be  verified,  it  would  afford  a  proof  from  the  fact 
how  liable  the  mind  is  to  be  influenced  in  this  respect  by 
casual  combinations. 

NOTE  [R,]  page  347. 

THE  difference  between  the  effects  of  association  and  of 
imagination^  (in  the  sense  in  which  J  employ  these  words,) 
in  heightening  the  pleasure  or  the  pain  produced  on  the 
mind  by  external  objects,  will  appear  from  the  following 
remarks  : 

1.  As  far  as  the  association  of  ideas  operates  in  heighten- 
ing pleasure  or  pain,  the  mind  is  passive  :  and  accordingly 
where  such  associations  are  a  source  of  inconvenience,  they 
are  seldom  to  be  cured  by  an  effort  of  our  volition,  or  even 
by  reasoning  ;  but  by  the  gradual  formation  of  contrary  as- 
sociations. Imagination  is  an  active  exertion  of  the  mind  ; 
and  although  it  may  often  be  difficult  to  restrain  it,  it  i§ 
plainly  distinguishable  in  theory  from  the  associations  now 
mentioned. 

2.  In  every  case  in  which  the  association  of  ideas  ope- 
rates, is  is  implied  that  some  pleasure  or  pain  is  recalled 
which  was  felt  by  the  mind  before.  I  visit,  for  example,  a 
scene  where  I  have  been  once  happy  ;  and  the  sight  of  it 
affects  me  on  that  account,  with  a  degree  of  pleasure,  which 
I  should  not  have  received  from  any  other  scene  equally 
beautiful.  I  shall  not  inquire,  whether,  in  such  cases,  the 
associated  pleasure  arises  iminedifttely  upon  the  sight  of  the 
object,  and  without  the  intervention  of  any  train  of  thought  ; 
or  whether  it  is  produced  by  the  recollection  and  conception 
of  former  occurrences  which  the  perception  rccals.  On 
neither  supposition  does  it  imply  the  exercise  of  that  crea- 
tive power  of  the  mind  to  which  we  have  given  the  name 
of  Imagination.     It  is  true,  that  commonlv,  on  such  occa- 

QQq 


5Q6  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

sioas,  imagination  is  busy  ;  and  our  pleasure  is  n^uch  heigh- 
tened by  ihe  colouring  which  she  gives  (O  the  objects  of 
memory.  But  the  difference  betv/een  the  effects  which 
arise  from  the  operation  of  this  facult)-,  and  those  which 
resuh  from  association,  is  not,  on  that  account,  the  less 
real. 

The  influence  of  imagination  on  happiness  is  chiefly  felt 
by  cultivated  minds,  "j'hat  of  association  extends  to  all 
ranks  of  men,  and  furnishes  the  chief  instrument  oT  educa- 
tion ;  insomuch  that  whoever  has  the  regulacion  of  the  a^^- 
sociations  of  another  from  early  infany,  is  to  a  great  de- 
gree, the  arbiter  of  his  happiness  or  misery. 

Some  very  ingenious  writers  have  employed  the  word 
Association  in  so  extensive  a  sense,  as  to  comprehend,  not 
onlv  imagination,  but  all  the  other  faculties  of  the  mind. 
Wherever  the  pleasing  or  the  painful  effect  of  an  object 
does  not  depend  solely  on  the  object  itself,  but  arises  eith- 
er wholly  or  in  part  from  some  mental  operation  to  which 
the  perception  of  it  giver,  rise,  the  effect  is  referred  to  as- 
sociation. And,  undoubtedly,  this  language  may  be  em- 
ployed with  propriety,  if  the  word  Association  be  applied 
to  all  the  ideas  and  feelings  which  may  arise  in  the  mind, 
in  consequence  of  the  exercise  which  the  sight  of  the  ob- 
ject may  give  to  the  imagination,  to  the  reasoning  powers, 
and  to  the  other  principles  of  our  nature.  But  in  (his  work, 
and  particularly  in  the  second  part  of  chap.  v.  I  employ  the 
word  Association  in  a  much  more  limited  sense  ;  to  express 
the  effect  which  an  object  derives  from  ideas,  or  from 
feelings  which  it  does  not  necessarily  sug^jest,  but  which  it 
uniformly  recals  to  the  mind,  in  consequence  of  early  and 
long  continued  habits. 


NOTE  [S,]  page  361. 

THE  following  passage  from  Malebranche  will  be  a  suf- 
ficient specimen  of  the  common  theories  with  respect  to 
memory, 

"  In  order  to  give  an  explanation  of  memory,  it  should 
*'  be  called  to  mind,  that  all  our  different  perceptions  are 
**  affixed  to  the  changes  which  happen  to  the  filjres  of  the 
**  principal  parts  of  the  brain,  wherein  the  soul  particularly 
*'  resides. 

"  This  supposition  being  laid  down,  the  nature  of  the 
"  memory  is  explained  :  for  as  the  branches  of  a  tree,  which 


NOTE  S  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  507 

"  have  continued  for  some  time  bent  after  a  particular  man- 
*'  ner,  preserve  a  readiness  and  facility  of  being  bent  afresh 
'*  in  the  same  manner  ;  so  the  (ibrcs  of  the  brain,  having 
*'  once  received  certain  impressions  from  the  current  of  the 
**  animal  spirits,  and  from  the  action  of  the  objects  upon 
"  them,  retain  for  a  considerable  time  some  facility  of  re- 
"  ceiving  the  same  dispositions.  Now  the  memory  consists 
*'  only  in  that  promptness  or  facility  j  since  a  man  thinks 
"  upon  the  same  things,  whenever  the  brain  receives  ihv' 
"  same  impressions."* 

"  The  most  considerable  difFcTences,"  says  the  same 
*^  Author  in  another  passage,  *"•  that  are  found  in  one  and 
"  the  same  person,  daring  his  whole  life^  are  in  his  infancy, 
*'  in  his  maturity,  and  in  his  old  age.  The  fibres  in  the 
"  brain  in  a  man's  childhood  are  soft,  flexible,  and  delicate  ; 
*'  a  riper  age  dries,  hardens,  and  corroborates  them  ;  but 
"  in  old  age  they  grow  altogether  inflexible,  gross,  and  in- 
'"  termixed  wirh  superfluous  humors,  which  the  faint  and 
*'  languishing  heat  ot  that  age  is  no  longer  able  to  disperse  : 
"  for  as  we  sec  that  the  fibres  which  compose  the  flesh 
"■  harden  by  time,  and  that  the  flesh  of  a  young  partridge  is 
"  without  dispute  more  tender  than  that  of  an  old  one,  so 
"  the  fibics  of  the  brain  of  a  child,  or  a  young  person,  must 
"  be  more  soft  and  delicate  than  those  of  persons  more  ad- 
*'  vanced  in  years. 

"  We  shall  understand  the  ground  and  the  occasion  of 
"  these  changes,  if  we  consider  that  the  fibres  are  continu- 
"*'  ally  agitated  by  the  animal  spirits,  which  whirl  about  them 
"  in  many  different  manners  :  for  as  the  winds  parch  and 
"  dry  the  earth  by  their  blowing  upon  ir,  so  the  animal 
*'  spirits,  by  their  perpetual  agitaiion,  render  by  degrees 
*'  the  greatest  part  of  the  fibres  of  a  man's  brain  more  dry, 
"  more  close,  and  solid  ;  so  that  persons  more  stricken  In 
"  age  must  necessarily  have  them  almost  always  more  in- 
"  flexible  than  those  of  a  lesser  standing.  And  as  for  thos6 
"  of  the  same  age,  drunkards,  who  for  many  years  togeiher 
*'  have  drank  to  excess  either  wine,  or  other  such  intoxica- 
"  ting  liquors,  must  needs  have  them  more  solid  and  more 
*'  inflexible  than  those  who  have  abstained  from  the  use  of 
*^  such  kind  of  liquors  all  their  lives/'f 

*  Book  ii-  chap.  5.  (Page  54  of  Taylor's  Transl.) 
tBook  il  chap,  6-  (Page  56  of  Taylor's  TranJl.) 


408  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NOTE  [T,]  page  417. 

"  THOUGH  Sir  Isaac's  memory  was  much  decayed  in 
"  the  last  years  of  his  life,  I  found  he  perfectly  understood 
'*  his  own  writings,  conirary  to  what  I  had  frequently  heard 
"  in  discourse  from  many  persons.  This  opinion  of  theirs 
*^  might  arise,  perhaps,  from  his  not  being  always  ready  at 
**  speaking  on  these  subjects,  when  it  might  be  expected  he 
"  should.  But  as  to  this  it  may  be  observed,  that  great 
"  geniuses  are  frequently  liable  to  be  absent,  not  only  in  re- 
*'  lation  to  common  life,  but  with  regard  to  some  of  the 
**  parts  of  science  thev  are  the  best  informed  of.  Inventors 
"  seem  to  treasure  up  in  their  minds  what  they  have  found 
"  out  after  another  manner  than  those  do  the  same  thiags, 
"  who  have  not  this  inventive  faculty.  The  former,  when 
"  they  have  occasion  to  produce  their  knowledge,  are,  in 
*'  some  measure,  obliged  immediately  to  investigate  part 
**  ot  what  they  want.  For  this  they  are  not  equally  fit  at 
"  all  times  ;  so  it  has  often  happened,  that  such  as  retain 
*'  things  chiefly  by  a  very  strong  memory,  have  appeared 
"  off-hand  more  expert  than  the  discoverers  themselves." 

Preface  to  Pemberton's  View  of  Newton's  Philosophy. 

NOTE  [U,]  page  458. 

"  GOING  over  the  theory  of  virtue  in  one's  thoughts^ 
*'  talking  well,  and  drawing  fine  pictures  of  it ;  this  is  so 
"  far  from  necessarily  or  certainly  conducing  to  form  a 
"  habit  of  it  in  him  who  thus  employs  himself,  that  it  may 
*'  harden  the  mind  in  a  contrary  course,  and  render  it  grad- 
*'  ually  more  insensible;  i.  e.  form  a  habit  of  insensibility 
'*  to  all  moral  obligations.  For,  from  our  very  faculty  of 
"  habits,  passive  impressions,  by  being  repeated,  grow^ 
'*  weaker.  Thoughts,  by  often  passing  through  the  mind, 
"  are  felt  less  sensibly  :  being  accustomed  to  danger,  be- 
"  gets  intrepidity,  i.  e.  lessens  fear  ;  to  distress,  lessens  the 
"  passion  of  pity  ;  to  instances  of  others  mortality,  lessens 
*'  the  sensible  apprehension  of  our  own.  And  from  these 
*'  two  observations  together,  that  practical  habits  are  form- 
*'  ed  and  strengthened  by  repeated  acts  ;  ard  that  passive 
"  impressions  grow  weaker  by  being  repeated  upon  us  ;  it 
"  must  follow,  that  active  habits  may  be  gradually  forming 
**  and  strengthening  by  a  course  of  acting  upon  such  and 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  509 

"  such  motives  and  excitements,  whilst  these  motives  and 
**  excitements  themselves  are,  by  proportionable  degrees, 
*'  growing  less  sensible,  i.  e.  are  continually  less  and  less 
"  sensibly  felt,  even  as  the  active  habits  strengthened.  And 
"  experience  confirms  this  :  for  active  principles,  at  the  ve- 
*'  ry  time  they  are  less  lively  in  perception  than  they  were, 
"  are  found  to  be,  somehow,  wrought  more  thoroughly  in- 
"  to  the  temper  and  character,  and  become  more  effectual 
"  in  influencing  our  practice.  The  three  things  just  men- 
**  tioned  may  afford  instances  of  it.  Ptrcepiioii  of  danger 
*'  is  a  natural  excitement  of  passive  fear  and  active  caution  : 
*'  and  by  being  inured  to  danger,  habits  of  the  latter  are 
"  gradually  wrought,  at  the  same  time  that  the  former 
**  gradually  lessens.  Perception  of  distress  in  others, 
*'  is  a  natural  excitement  passively  to  pity,  and  actively  to 
**  relieve  it :  but  let  a  man  set  himself  to  attend  to,  inquire 
*'  out,  and  relieve  distressed  persons,  and  he  cannot  but 
"  grow  less  and  less  sensibly  affected  with  the  various  nnis- 
"  eries  of  life  with  which  he  must  become  acquainted  ; 
*'  when  yet,  at  the  same  time,  benevolence,  cons'idered  not 
**  as  a  passion,  but  as  a  practical  principle  of  action,  will 
**  strengthen  :  and  whilst  he  passively  compas&ionates  the 
"  distressed  less,  he  will  acquire  a  greater  aptitude  actively 
**  to  assist  and  befriend  them.  So  also,  at  the  same  time 
**  that  the  daily  instances  of  men's  dying  around  us,  give 
*'  us  daily  a  less  sensible  passive  feeling  or  apprehension  of 
"  our  own  mortality,  such  instances  greatly  contribute  to 
**  the  strengthening  a  practical  regard  to  it  in  serious  men  ; 
"  i.  e.  to  forming  a  habit  of  acting  with  a  constant  v'ltw  to 
"  it."  Butler's  Analogy^  page  122.  3d  edit. 


THE  END. 


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M  i-y  ^^^' 


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MAR  23 1988 


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LD  21-95m-7,'37 


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